Falling Out Of The World
by Brownbug
Summary: Master/ Time Lady OC: "Deep in the Underhenge, Tejana is dragged by an invisible attacker through a crack in Time. To her shock, she ends up back on Gallifrey, during the time her father and the Master attended the Academy. Will she be able to find her way back? And who is the unseen presence who has gone to such lengths to abduct her?" Sixth in the 'One Moment in Time' series.
1. Chapter 1

_**WARNING: This is the sixth instalment in the "One Moment in Time" series, following on from "One Moment in Time", "Portal of Eternity", "So Many Things Should Have Been Different", "Return to The Valiant" and "The Master's Rose". You will DEFINITELY need to read from the beginning to make sense of it all.**_

**__****__****Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who or anything remotely related to it.**  


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**- CHAPTER ONE -  
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"_People fall out of the world sometimes, but they always leave traces. Little things we can't quite account for. Faces in photographs, luggage, half eaten meals... rings... Nothing is ever forgotten, not completely. And if something can be remembered, it can come back..."_

_ - The Doctor, The Pandorica Opens._

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The flames in the torches held aloft by the Roman soldiers flickered and danced madly, glowing eerily through the hissing rain. Cold, white mist was rising out of the ground, coiling clammy fingers around their ankles and drifting from the darkness between the ancient standing stones. Now that the harsh strobing lights of the alien space fleet had vanished, Stonehenge was once more a brooding, haunted place of sacrifice and mystery.

As Tejana faced the Doctor, a strange weakness spread along her limbs, an odd, numbing sort of exhaustion like nothing she had ever experienced before. She felt unexpectedly light-headed, all the colour draining from her face. The surrounding stones were tall and forbidding, dark watchers looming over her in an unbroken, claustrophobic circle. No gaps, no breaks, no escape from their reaching shadows. They seemed to be crowding in around her, starting to spin, whirling around and around and around, like a giant wheel. Her knees buckled uncontrollably under her and she almost fell.

Leaping forward, the Doctor caught her before she hit the ground. "Whoa! Steady!" he exclaimed in concern. "Are you all right?"

"Yes," she gasped, trying to focus her gaze on the white blur of her father's face. "I'm fine. Just...a little giddy. The vortex manipulator..." Her voice trailed away. As far as she knew, there could be only one possible reason why she felt so ill. And even though that reason was exactly why she had come to see her father in the first place, now that she was actually standing in front of him, the idea of explaining it all to him seemed incredibly daunting.

The Doctor slid his arm around her waist, easily taking and supporting her slight weight. "What happened to you, Tejana? Why did you regenerate? Why are you travelling around by vortex manipulator? And where's the Master? Why isn't he with you? What's he done this time?"

Tejana put her hands up in a defensive gesture, as if to ward off the storm of rapid-fire questions.

"Slow down a little, would you? And stop jumping to conclusions. He hasn't done anything!" she snapped, resenting his immediate assumption that the Master was somehow at fault. "Everything's OK. I'm OK. He's OK. We're _all _OK!"

"All...?" The Doctor's eyes sharpened, homing in on the tiny slip, almost as if he anticipated exactly what she was here to tell him. "You, the Master and who else...?"

Tejana sighed. Perhaps he had already guessed about the baby, who knew? The Doctor was a man who usually concentrated exclusively on the bigger picture of life. But sometimes he also had a disconcerting knack for picking up on smaller details at the most awkward and unexpected moments. Of course, if he _had _already guessed, it would make the process of actually telling him a little bit easier, which could only be a good thing.

"That's part of what I need to speak to you about. It's kind of a long story."

He hesitated for a few seconds. For the first time, she noticed the little worry lines etched around his eyes as he looked at her. It was clear he was still not completely reconciled to the idea of her relationship with the Master. Perhaps, given the length and depth of their enmity, he never would be. An unaccustomed pang of guilt twisted inside her. As dysfunctional as they tended to be as a family unit, she was still his daughter and she knew he loved her. Looking into his steady, blue-green eyes, it slowly dawned on her that he was afraid for her. She had been so determined to have her own way in this, so determined to defy anyone or anything that tried to come between her and the Master, to be with him come hell or high water, that she had never even _tried_ to see it from the Doctor's point of view. She had never once stopped to think of the anxiety she was causing her father - anxiety that he had every right to feel, given the Master's less-than-stellar track record. Now that she was preparing to be a parent herself, it was as though her perspective had dynamically shifted and she could see her own actions in an entirely different light.

Shamed by the sudden understanding of her own selfishness, a wave of uncertainty assailed her. Perhaps this was a mistake. After all, she'd just rushed impulsively down here in a tearing hurry, without really planning what she was going to say. Perhaps she should wait until she had it all worked out, word for word, exactly how she should break it to her father, with tact and diplomacy. Or at least she should wait until she was feeling a bit better. Or maybe until the Master was with her, for moral support. The baby wasn't due for ages yet, there was no need to rush into anything, was there?

However, before she could give in to her rising panic and back away, the Doctor said briskly, "Right, then. Long story it is! I love a good long story. Did I ever tell you the one about the moth that went to the podiatrist? No? A dwarf recited the whole thing to me once, in a bar on Clom. Now _there's_ a people who like a long story – took nearly a whole night and a cartload of drinks to get to the end! Remind me to tell it to you some time. But first, let's get you in out of this rain."

As he spoke, he was hustling her firmly away, giving her no chance to object. _ Misdirection_, she realised. _Distracting me with his rambling nonsense, so I won't notice what the rest of him is doing_. He'd always done that, for as long as she could remember, across all his incarnations. It was one of his best-loved tricks, since people consistently fell for it, time after time, even those who should really know better. In the back of her mind, the cool, logical part of her brain couldn't help observing that this particular regeneration seemed to be especially good at it. Nonetheless, she couldn't seem to gather the energy to protest, finding herself grateful instead for his assistance. Her legs felt oddly rubbery, as though she didn't even have the strength to stand up properly. _If this is pregnancy, _she reflected dubiously, _I'm not sure I like it much. _

Without giving it a lot of thought, she had automatically expected the Doctor to usher her into the warm, familiar, brightly-lit interior of his TARDIS. But as she looked around, she quickly realised there was no evidence of the tall, blue police box anywhere inside the stone circle. Instead, he was guiding her across to a set of roughly-hewn stone stairs, leading down deep into the earth. Seeing the alarmed expression crossing her face, he waved his hand cheerfully towards the dark, ominous-looking entrance. "Welcome to the Underhenge!" he announced in a proud voice, as if it was something he had personally excavated.

"Yeah...OK..." she responded, more reluctant than ever now. Dark holes in the ground were _really_ not her thing. "Um...look...I can see you're pretty busy here...invasion fleet, Romans, creepy tunnels under Stonehenge, that sort of thing... Maybe I should come back another time, when it's a bit more convenient?"

But the Doctor just kept going, mercilessly propelling her down the stairs at his side. "No need for that, we've got plenty of time. According to my calculations, the Pandorica shouldn't be opening for quite a while yet."

"The Pandorica?" she exclaimed. "You mean you really _do_ have the Pandorica? It wasn't just a lie you were telling the invasion fleet?"

The Doctor gave her a hurt look. "A lie? When have you ever known me to lie?"

Tejana didn't even bother to answer that one. She merely raised her eyebrows and gave him a meaningful stare.

"Well, OK, maybe I bend the truth a little sometimes," he admitted. "But only when it's totally necessary. And, in answer to your question, yes, I do have the Pandorica. It's down here. Come and have a look."

As they moved further into the darkness of the Underhenge, a cold breeze seemed to shiver across the back of Tejana's neck. For a fraction of a second, she felt a wave of unease, as if someone was standing too close, directly behind her. She turned her head sharply, expecting to see the Doctor's Roman officer friend, following them down the stairs. But to her surprise, there was no-one there and she could hear the young centurion still shouting orders to his men far away up on the surface. The sensation of another presence had already disappeared, leaving her doubtful she had really felt it at all.

_Imagination, _she told herself firmly. _Just my usual claustrophobia, that's all._

They were walking down a narrow stone passage by now, festooned with huge, ragged cobwebs. It wasn't difficult to guess that the Roman soldiers had also been down here recently, since the corridor was lit at intervals by flaming torches set into brackets in the walls. The musty, stale smell of the air made Tejana feel even more ill, if that was possible. On the whole, she found she much preferred the cold, whispering rain in the darkness outside – anything was better than this ancient, stifling, gloomy rat-hole.

A set of heavy double doors, wide open but far from welcoming, drew them out of the passage into a cavernous chamber with a dusty floor, patterned by a myriad of scuffled boot prints. In the centre of the room stood an imposing grey metal cube, each side engraved with an intricate circular pattern.

Tejana's jaw dropped in shock. Pulling away from the Doctor's support, she took a few trembling steps forward into the room. "Oh, stars! It's real. The Pandorica is really, really real! I don't believe it!"

He moved past her and ran his hand over one of the ornately-carved sides. "Oh yes, it's real, all right."

"B..but..." she stammered, walking around the box in a wary circle, all illness forgotten as she tried to absorb the impossible thing she was seeing. "What's in it?"

He shrugged, placing his ear against one of the walls, as if listening for any distinguishing noises inside. "No idea. Could be anything. You know the legend as well as I do."

"There was a goblin, or a trickster, or a warrior," she recited in a soft, awed voice, recalling the words from her childhood. "A nameless, terrible thing, soaked in the blood of a billion galaxies. The most feared being in all the cosmos. And nothing could stop it, or hold it, or reason with it...one day, it would just drop out of the sky and tear down your world...Oh gods, and you think, whatever this creature is, it's about to come out of this box?"

"Fascinating, isn't it?"

"But shouldn't you be doing something to stop it?"

"Like what, exactly? River says, according to her scanner, there are layers upon layers of security protocols in there and they're all being deactivated, one by one, as if it's being opened from the inside."

"River!" Tejana echoed. "As in, Professor River Song, that archaeologist we met in the Library? She's here somewhere too?"

The Doctor nodded. "She's gone to get the TARDIS for me. I parked it down near the Roman camp, but I've got a feeling I'm going to need it."

"She's doing _what_?" Tejana blinked at him in sheer astonishment, hardly believing the evidence of her own ears. First the Pandorica, then this - it seemed she wasn't the only one with a few mind-blowing surprises up her sleeve. "You're allowing a _human_ to pilot your TARDIS now? That has to be some kind of joke, right?" She tried to imagine what the Master would have to say about that whole concept if he were here, but then she decided not to – the curse words were far too graphic.

"Actually, she's very good, as it happens," the Doctor retorted, a shade defensively. "Apparently, I taught her. My future, her past. Timey wimey and all that. And, now that you mention it, I'm not entirely sure she is human."

"_You_ taught her?" Tejana couldn't remember the Doctor ever teaching _any _of his non-Gallifreyan companions to properly fly the TARDIS. Some of the more technically-minded of them, such as Adric and Turlough and Jack, had learned to operate some of the various systems, in case of emergency. But to actually single-handedly fly the TARDIS through the Time Vortex? Only a Time Lord should be able to do that. "So...you give her your own sonic screwdriver, you end up teaching her to fly the TARDIS, _and _she knows your true name? Is there something you haven't told me? Should I start calling her 'Mum'?"

His face was turned away from her, his eyes carefully fixed on the Pandorica. If she didn't know any better, she would have said he was blushing. "Don't be ridiculous. I told you, whatever happens between us is still in my future. She won't tell me any of it."

Tejana wasn't quite sure how she felt about her father making that sort of commitment to the brash, confident River Song. Her own mother had died centuries ago, when she was still a child, so Tejana had no issue with her being replaced in the Doctor's life by another woman, particularly since she had always known that her parents had only ever shared a marriage of convenience. However, aside from their hair-raising adventures in the Library, Tejana barely knew River. Not so long ago, it might have really bothered her, the inequality of her Time Lord father pairing up with a human, just as his inexplicable love for Rose had once bothered her. But now, having found her own happiness in what had to be one of the strangest relationships in the Universe, she had learned to be much more tolerant, much less black and white in her approach to life. In the end, the only thing that was important was whether or not River made her father happy.

Right now, however, it was a little difficult to tell whether the Doctor was happy about it all or not, since he was much too busy being utterly embarrassed. A small grin crept across her face. It was almost unheard of for her father to get this flustered and she couldn't resist teasing him a little. "Spoil-ers!" she sing-songed.

"Oh, shut up!" he growled. "You know what time travel gets like. It's complicated." He turned his head and fixed her with his gaze. "And speaking of complicated, when are you going to stop stalling and tell me what the very, very, absolutely important thing is that you came here to talk to me about?"

The grin slipped away from her face. "Stalling? I'm not stalling. What makes you think I'm stalling?"

"Because you've always done it, ever since you were tiny. Whenever it's something you think I won't want to hear, you always take ages to screw up your courage to tell me, but then - when it comes to the ultimate moment of confession - you start to talk about anything and everything else, trying to put it off for as long as you can," he said, a twinkle in his eyes at turning the tables on her. "So, what is it this time?"

Annoyed at being thrust so effectively on to the back foot, she drew herself up haughtily to her full height, which was probably a bit of a waste of effort, considering how small she was in this regeneration. "That's rubbish. Absolute rubbish. Stalling would be an extremely childish thing to do. I'm not five years old any more! And I don't have any need to stall, not in the slightest, thank you very much!"

"Uh-huh," the Doctor agreed solemnly, his eyes still dancing with mischief. "So why are you still doing it?"

She bit back the acid retort on the tip of her tongue and took a deep, steadying breath. _Okay, fine, _she told herself. _No more stalling._ _This is it, crunch time, I have to tell him. Stay calm and just ease into it slowly. Everything will be okay, just as long as I explain it all carefully and use a bit of tact and diplomacy..._

"I'm pregnant," she blurted out in a sudden rush of words. "The Master and I...we're going to have a son."

There was silence. Absolute, impenetrable, suffocating silence. As the old Earth saying went, you could have heard a pin drop. In the end, Tejana couldn't bear the agonising wait any longer. "Well?" she prompted. "Aren't you going to say anything?"

"What do you want me to say?" All the light and warmth had drained from his voice. It was flat, empty and impersonal, as if he was talking to a complete stranger. His gaze was cold and shuttered and there was no expression on his face whatsoever. Immediately, she felt both her hearts sinking like stones. She hadn't expected him to take the news well, but this was even worse than she had envisaged. Hot, painful tears welled in her eyes. Until now, she had never realised how desperately she had been hoping it would turn out differently, how badly she had wanted her father's blessing for her precious baby.

"Oh, I don't know. How about, 'Congratulations, Tejana, that's terrific news!' ? Or maybe even, 'Oh, wow, I'm going to be a grandfather, pass the cigars!' Either of those might be nice!"

"Nice!" he spat, his eyes suddenly blazing with incredible fury. "You think having a child with the Master is going to be _nice_? Do you have any idea what you've done? You can't seriously consider him fit to be a father, after all the harm he's caused throughout the centuries, all the mayhem and death and destruction. He's a twisted, psychopathic, murderous megalomaniac! And you're planning to inflict all that on a helpless child! I can just hear him now, 'Now watch carefully, son, while I teach you how to decimate a population!' And you expect me to be_ happy_ about that?"

Tejana went pale with anger. "Don't you _dare_ start lecturing me about paternal role models, because believe me, you are on _very_ thin ice!" she snarled, unable to hold back the bitter words, despite her resolve to keep a rein on her temper. "At least_ he'll_ be there when his child needs him, instead of dumping all his responsibilities to merrily jaunt off across the Universe."

The Doctor recoiled as if she had slapped him. He shook his head in sorrow and disbelief. "Don't you understand? You're my daughter! This isn't what I wanted for you, Tejana."

"No? Then tell me, Doctor, what _did _you want for me? A man who loves me? Who makes me happy? Who would do anything in his power to protect me and keep me safe? Who would do the same and more for our child? Don't you see that I already have all of that?"

His hand shot out with the speed of a striking snake, catching her by her right arm. "_This_ is what I didn't want for you!" Pushing back the sleeve of her jacket, he revealed a circlet of darkening bruises coiled around her slender wrist, unmistakably finger-marks.

Tejana stared at the livid prints in surprise. Until the Doctor had mentioned them, she hadn't even known they were there. She could remember the Master restraining her wrists while they were making love, it was something he often did. But she didn't remember any pain, just overwhelming pleasure. Oddly, now that she was aware of them, the bruises really did hurt. The marks seemed to be darkening even further as she watched, forming an ominous shackle of throbbing black smudges against her pale skin. And at the same time, she realised she could feel other aches emerging across her body, as if she was slowly becoming aware of other hidden injuries in the places he had touched her.

For a few moments, her head swam with confusion and a tendril of incipient fear curled up her spine. What the hell was going on? The Master had never hurt her before, not like this. And why hadn't she noticed it happening at the time? Why hadn't she stopped him? With a supreme effort, she pulled herself together, fighting to maintain her composure. Whatever this was, she was damned if she was going to admit to her father how thoroughly shaken she was.

"He's never done anything I didn't want him to!" she said, wrenching her wrist sharply from his grasp.

"Oh, and that's supposed to make me feel better about it, is it?" the Doctor retorted. "Because, _hello_, it doesn't! Does he even know you're here?"

"No," she said, her voice almost inaudible.

"Well, there's a surprise! Correct me if I'm wrong, but I'm pretty sure that me being involved in my grandson's life doesn't exactly factor into his grand plan, now does it?"

Tejana didn't answer. There was nothing she could say. The Doctor was right. She knew quite well that the Master would be furious if he knew where she was and what she was doing.

Unexpectedly, the Doctor's hands moved to gently cup her face, searching her eyes with his. There was no anger there now, just a deep, abiding sadness. "Why did you really come here, Tejana? It wasn't just to tell me about the child, was it? There's something else you want from me."

Tears streaked down her face. "I wanted...I need to...please, Doctor, you're the last living President of Gallifrey..."

The light of comprehension dawned in his gaze at the incoherent words, realisation striking him like the crack of a whip. "You want me to _marry_ the two of you? Is that what you're asking?" he said incredulously. "_Why?_"

"I've already given him my true name, we're going to have a child..."

"But why does a formal ceremony even matter to you? Gallifrey's gone forever, her marriage laws are redundant, her traditions totally irrelevant."

"It doesn't matter to me, it matters to _him_!" she sobbed. "It's the way he was brought up, he can't get past it. For our son to truly be his heir, we need to be married."

The Doctor turned away from her and leaned his head against the stone wall of the Pandorica. His shoulders were hunched like the old man he truly was, rather than the young man he appeared to be, as though the weight of the Universe was slowly crushing him. "No. You've got no right to ask this of me."

"But back at the Hub, you let me go with him! You told me to be happy!" she protested, dismayed at the rigid, uncompromising denial. "I thought that meant you were okay with us being together!"

"Well, you were wrong. After giving him your true name, you didn't leave me much option except to let you go! There wasn't anything else I could do!" her father said harshly. "But I won't condone your relationship or support it. You've taken away all my other choices in this, Tejana, but I won't formally hand you over to him, like some sort of gift-wrapped present. I'll never give him that satisfaction."

She took an angry step backwards, every line of her body tense with fury. "You're right, I should never have come," she said, her voice trembling with bitterness. "I thought for once you might listen, but I should have known better. When will you both learn that I'm _not_ a possession for you to squabble over like a pair of children! But the two of you will always have a score to settle, and that will always come first, no matter what I do or say. If the miracle of my son doesn't change that, then I guess nothing ever will." She spun away and headed back towards the double doors. "Goodbye, Doctor."

His head shot up. "Where are you going?"

"Home," she responded, knowing that this description of the Master's TARDIS would upset her father more than anything else. She paused in the doorway and looked back at him over her shoulder. "You know, you're so sure that the Master is actively trying to destroy our relationship. But the truth is, he doesn't have to do a single thing to drive a wedge between us. All he ever had to do was to sit back and wait until we did it ourselves."

She made it as far as the passageway before the last of her strength gave out and she fell to her hands and knees in the dust, her fierce pride no longer enough to keep her upright. The narrow, torch-lit tunnel seemed to blur in front of her and she found herself struggling to breathe. Something was very wrong. This was much more than just being pregnant, much more than the residual effects of the vortex manipulator. She felt almost as if she was dying. Her eyes fell to her right wrist. To her shock, she saw that the bruises from the Master's fingers had worsened still further, taking on the appearance of deep, crusted weals. Her entire body ached viciously, as if she had been kicked all over.

_Oh gods, _she thought fearfully. _What's happening to me?_

Suddenly, the air seemed to thicken and, with a chill, she knew she was no longer alone. The invisible presence she had sensed earlier had returned in force. It was all around her, like a tangled net, closing her in. She tried to struggle free, fighting to gather enough breath into her lungs to scream. Across from her, a glowing line began to trace slowly across the stone wall, shaping itself into a ragged curve, resembling a huge, malevolent grin. There was a terrible grinding noise and the line grew wider and wider and wider, transforming into a gaping fissure, greedily spilling tendrils of pure white Time-fire into the darkness of the tunnel. Galvanised by absolute terror, Tejana tried to scrabble away, frantic to reach the safety of the room containing the Pandorica. But the hovering, unseen presence merely tightened its grip on her and she found herself being forcibly dragged backwards towards the shimmering crack. She could almost feel the invisible hands wrapped around her ankles, pulling and pulling and pulling. Frantically, she clawed her fingernails into the dirt floor, trying to slow her progress, while kicking her legs in a vain attempt to free herself. It was all to no avail. The ghostly grip on her ankles was as inflexible as iron and she didn't have enough strength left to resist. She was much too close to the crack now. The strange heat emanating from the Time-fire scorched along her back, burning cold, freezing and searing at the same time as it reached hungry fingers towards her, absorbing her piece by piece into its endless, unchartered depths.

At the last moment, just as she was about to give up all hope, the Doctor appeared like a rocket out of nowhere. He hurled himself forward across the ground until he was flat on his stomach and seized her by the left arm, wedging his feet against the doors behind him, anchoring her firmly in place. Tejana howled in agony as both his hands closed like a vice on the wide leather band of Hart's vortex manipulator, crushing it around her injured wrist. Neverthless, he didn't loosen his grip, hanging on like grim death instead.

"It's all right!" he yelled. "I've got you!"

"Something's got me by the ankles!" she gasped, still kicking feebly. "It's pulling me in! I can't break free!"

She looked wildly back over her shoulder. Already her legs had been completely swallowed by the ravenous crack as far as her waist, her slender form crawling with serpentine white fire. Every muscle was shrieking in pain as her body stretched taut between the Doctor and her phantom assailant, like the rope in a savage tug-of-war. Her left shoulder was almost pulled out of its socket from the tremendous strain.

And despite her father's best efforts, she was still slipping away from him.

"Doctor!" she cried. "_Please!_"

He gritted his teeth and tightened his grip on her wrist still further. His eyes glittered like steel and his jaw jutted in terrible determination. "Keep fighting, Tejana! I won't let you go, I promise you..._I'll never let you go!_"

Inch by inch, refusing to be defeated, he struggled against the supernatural power of the crack, striving to wrest her back towards him. For a few heady seconds, she actually felt herself sliding in his direction and she thought he had won after all. The iron grasp on her ankles seemed to slacken, leaving her ensnared only by the unnatural, almost magnetic pull of the Time-fire itself. The Doctor gave another heave, dragging her even further towards safety. But then, to her utter horror, she saw the small fasteners on the strap of the vortex manipulator starting to separate, as though nimble, invisible fingers were unbuckling them, one by one.

"No!" the Doctor yelled, making a desperate grab for her as he felt her arm slipping through the loosened wrist-strap. "NO!"

Tejana lunged for his hand, only to feel the eldritch coils of Time-fire twining around her, snatching her violently away from him and dragging her fully inside the glowing fissure.

"_Father!_" she screamed.

She heard him shout her name, caught one last look at his agonised face, and then the crack snapped shut and she began to fall.


	2. Chapter 2

**_Author's Note: Thanks so much to everyone who welcomed me back. Very glad not everyone is sick of my writing :)_  
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**_Special thanks to the following people for reviewing - yulicee, GuesssWho, MayFairy, TheGreatWhite, Guest, sailormajinmoon, The Mouse's Rose, Lexy Summers, EmmaMarie, MountainLord-92, EDZEL2 and LovelyOne797.  
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**_To Guest - Thanks for the encouragement. Hopefully you'll keep reading to find out what happens with the Time-fire :)  
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**_To sailormajinmoon - Yay, a new reader, thanks for hopping aboard my ridiculously long saga. As for the Doctor's reaction, it may seem a bit harsh at first glance, but if you had a daughter you loved, would you want her marrying the Master after all he's done,let alone having his baby? Probably not, I'm thinking :) Hopefully the rest of your questions will be answered in due course. Thanks very much for the feedback, I really appreciate it.  
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**_To LovelyOne797 - Aw thanks, that was a lovely review. I'm so glad you had an emotional reaction to the chapter and it makes me very happy that you're pleased I'm back with another story!  
_**

**_So anyway, here's the next chapter..._**

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**- CHAPTER TWO -**

"_There were cracks. Some were tiny...some were as big as the sky. Through some we saw worlds and people. And through others we saw silence and the end of all things..." _

_Rosanna Calvierri, Vampires in Venice._

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The Doctor stared in shock at the vortex manipulator dangling emptily from his hands, the sound of the crack snapping shut still reverberating in his head, terrible in its finality. A smooth, unbroken wall faced him. It looked completely undisturbed, the stones dusty and covered with the cobwebs of centuries, as though the crack had never been. There was no sign at all of Tejana. He felt sick inside. Even though he hadn't let go, just as he had promised, he had still lost her. Something..._someone_...had undone the buckles on the wrist-strap - invisible, ghost-like fingers deliberately loosening them so that he would lose his grip and his daughter would be helplessly sucked into the glowing white Time-fire. And he had no idea who that someone was. _A goblin, a trickster or a warrior... _The words of the ancient legend spun round and round in his mind. Was this something to do with the opening of the Pandorica? Or were there other forces at work here?

Already he was finding it more and more difficult to remember exactly what had happened. The grinning crack, shaped exactly like the one that had once split Amy's bedroom wall; his daughter's frightened voice calling his name, calling him "father", begging him to save her; the frantic feeling of her arm sliding out of the leather wrist-strap. It was all growing soft and hazy, fading at the edges, all the details seeping away. Even now, Tejana's face was just a featureless blur, surrounded in a halo of copper-coloured hair.

_No, _he thought in horror, realising what was happening. _The Time-fire has wiped her from existence. My own history is changing. I'm forgetting her. Soon I won't remember I ever had a daughter._

Desperately, he thrust the vortex manipulator into his pocket and scrabbled around, trying to find a pen and some paper_. _He had to hold her inside his mind long enough to write himself some instructions. If it was written down, in his hand, he would know he needed to find her, even if his memories of her disappeared completely. He could get her back...he had to believe that, he had to! Rory had fallen into a crack and he had come back – somehow, it could be done. But if he didn't even know to look for her, she would be lost forever.

_Come on, _he told himself, mentally cudgelling his brain, fighting to stop it all slipping away. _Concentrate! She's your daughter, your only family. You're going to have a grandson. You promised you wouldn't let her go - REMEMBER her!_

The pen was in his hands, together with a small notebook. His recollection was already hanging by the slenderest of threads. Quickly, he flipped the book open and began to scrawl across the page, like someone gingerly placing the last ace on top of a house of cards, praying he wouldn't bring the whole edifice tumbling down.

A footstep sounded on the stairs, the crunch of a heavy soldier's boot. "They're still up there." It was Rory's voice.

The interruption shattered the Doctor's carefully-balanced concentration like a stone flung through a glass window pane.

"No, no, no!" he yelled, staring down at the notebook, struggling to hold on to his receding memories. "Rory, _don't!_"

Ginger. A blur of ginger hair...he was jealous because she was ginger and he wasn't..._remember_...she wanted him to marry her to the Master and he was angry, so very angry..._remember..._he loved her more than anything else in the Universe, he just wanted her to be happy..._remember..._

"Don't what?" Rory queried, obliviously walking towards him. His voice seemed unbearably loud in the narrow, enclosed space. Piercing. Penetrating. And as destructive as a super-nova. "There's an entire invasion fleet still circling around up there. What do we do now?" He looked more closely at the Time Lord, taking in his stiff, unnatural pose. "Are you all right, Doctor? Why are you just standing around in the passageway?"

The fragile, elusive moment stretched...and shifted...and turned...and, just like that, was gone. The Doctor blinked and glanced up at Rory, as if waking from a dream. Then his eyes fell back down to the open notebook he was holding. He wasn't quite sure what he was doing, to be honest, standing like a statue in the middle of the dank, dark tunnel. Not that he would ever admit that to Rory, of course – he had an image to maintain, after all. His fingers were clenched tightly around a pen in his hand. Had he been writing something? Oddly, now that he looked at it, the notebook was marked with circular, squiggly script. _Gallifreyan_, he thought in surprise. It was definitely his own writing. Just a few letters, trailing away into an indecipherable scrawl...it appeared to be a name. TEJANA. He wrinkled his forehead. Another Time Lord, perhaps? Why else would he have written the name down in Gallifreyan? It didn't ring any bells though, not that he could think of.

"Rory, did I come down here with anyone else?" he asked, not quite sure why he was asking the question. After all, there was obviously no-one else here now, certainly no other Time Lords. Apart from himself and the Master, they were all long dead. But something kept nudging at the back of his mind and wouldn't leave him alone.

The young centurion looked at him with a bemused expression. For a brief moment, he seemed to hesitate, as if he wasn't certain what his answer would be. But then he said, "The girl, you mean?"

The Doctor tensed, all his senses suddenly on red alert. "_What girl?_"

"Tiny little thing, with long red hair," Rory replied, his brow wrinkled in concentration. "She turned up out of nowhere when you were giving your speech to the invasion fleet. She didn't look well, so you said you were bringing her down here, out of the rain."

A feeling of cold uneasiness began to emerge in the Doctor's brain, like a bloated corpse slowly rising to the surface of a pond. "And did it look like I knew who this girl was?"

"Well, you gave her a big hug when she first arrived, if that's what you mean."

"You don't happen to know her name, do you?"

Rory shrugged. "Sorry. I've never seen her before. Why? Is it important? More important than an invasion fleet circling around up above us, for instance?"

"I'm not sure," the Doctor replied, deep in thought, his companion's pointed sarcasm going completely over his head, as usual. Closing the notebook and slipping it back into his pocket, he walked back into the chamber containing the Pandorica, with Rory following in his wake. The tall grey cube sat impassively, unchanged from when he had left it earlier. Somehow, without even trying, the thing gave the Doctor the unpleasant impression that it was watching him. All around, the cavernous room seemed to crawl with shadows. "Except that I don't remember her at all. Which might not be impossible, because nothing is impossible, but it _is _improbable, because I'm the Doctor, and forgetting things isn't something I tend to do. Not to mention that, whoever she was, she doesn't appear to be here now, does she?"

"Perhaps there's another exit?" Rory suggested, glancing around nervously. "Who knows how many tunnels there are in this place."

"Mmmm, perhaps," the Doctor murmured, crouching down and tracing his finger around something on the ground. "But I'm starting to get a very bad feeling about this, Rory."

The young centurion craned his neck to see what the Time Lord was looking at. "What did you find?"

Imprinted in the dust was a small, delicate-looking boot-print. Even as the two of them watched, the fine grey particles seemed to stir in an unseen breeze, sifting and sliding sinuously across the floor, until all trace of the betraying mark had been erased.

"Unless I'm very much mistaken, the footprints of the Neverwere," the Doctor said grimly.

* * *

Tejana knew all about cracks in Time. Back in her Academy days, her tutors had covered the subject extensively, drilling the details into the heads of their students with methodical insistence. Determined to hold on to her sanity, she retrieved every last fragment of information from the depths of her brain and carefully studied them, trying to find something she could use.

Firstly, she knew what caused a crack, namely two pieces of space and time colliding that were never meant to touch. Which, now she thought about it, was a bit of a vague explanation that could cover many contingencies, without providing any helpful specifics. Like, for instance, how this particular crack had suddenly turned up without warning under Stonehenge, not to mention how the hell she had ended up inside it.

Secondly, she knew how to close them. With a small crack, it was as simple as widening it with something like a sonic screwdriver, until the forces inverted and the crack snapped shut. With a larger crack, you needed to seal it with a significant space-time event. As it happened, she had proven that herself once before, on the Isle of Avalon, using the White Point Star from Rassilon's presidential scepter to close a crack that had been menacing Jack and the Master. However, as bright and encouraging as that memory was, knowing how to close a crack wasn't particularly useful when a crack had already shut and you were on the wrong side of it.

And lastly, she knew what happened when someone fell into a crack and was engulfed by Time-fire. They were wiped from history, as if they had never been, forgotten by everyone except for time-travellers, who had a slightly different perspective from everyone else. But even a time-traveller could forget, if the removed person related to their direct past. So the odds were, since she was his daughter, and you couldn't get much more direct than that, the Doctor had most likely forgotten her already. Which wasn't a very comforting thought, when you considered that he was the only one who knew where she was.

The horrible truth was, when you came down to it, even _she_ didn't know exactly where she was. Because, even after all those extremely useful lectures at the Academy, the one thing she _didn't _know about cracks in Time was what actually happened to people after they were absorbed. Logic dictated that there was probably a very good reason for this, since nobody had ever returned from a crack to tell the tale, just as she would probably never return again either. But right now, she didn't want to listen to logic. That kind of reasoning was the path to madness, so as far as she was concerned, logic could take a running jump.

Up until now, she supposed she had always assumed that a person swallowed by a crack just...well, disintegrated...or atomised...or ceased to exist...or something along those lines. But as far as she could tell, she was still very much in existence. She was even corporeal. She could feel her chest rising and falling as she breathed. And when she dug her fingernails into the palms of her hands, she could feel the sharp pain as her skin punctured, which she took as a hopeful sign that she wasn't dead, at least not yet. She appeared to be floating – or maybe still falling, it was hard to tell - in a cloud of silver mist. It didn't hurt and it wasn't particularly frightening in any way. In fact, it was oddly beautiful, if you liked that kind of thing.

All at once, she felt a sudden acute longing for the Master. Oh gods, she'd gone and done it again, hadn't she? Disappeared on an errand of her own, without telling him, and now she'd ended up neck deep in trouble. When would she ever learn? He'd promised he would always come for her, that there was nowhere in the Universe she could go that he wouldn't find her and bring her back. And on Mnemosyne, he'd proven that he meant it, by intentionally putting himself in deadly danger to save her. But what if she was no longer inside the Universe? What if she was outside Time itself, beyond even his reach? Despite her attempts to remain positive, a wave of despair threatened to engulf her. She was his lover, his life-mate, she was carrying his baby – she was part of his direct past. Like the Doctor, he would forget both her and his child, as if they had never been. Just the thought of it made her want to cry out in pain. Bad enough to be dead, but not even to remain as a memory in the minds of the people she loved, that was something no-one deserved.

As if in response, an invisible hand brushed her cheek. The touch wasn't harsh or threatening. It was gentle and almost tender, as if intended to comfort her. But Tejana started and pulled away, both her hearts beating wildly, the terrifying feeling of being dragged into the crack by an unseen assailant still fresh in her mind.

"Who are you?" she demanded, forcing some anger into her voice to hide her fear as she stared around her. "What do you want with me?"

But there was no answer and nothing else touched her. Not far away, the argent mist swirled and sparkled. Tejana could see a dark, distorted shape emerging through the swathes of fog, parting it like the Red Sea. A strange muttering noise drifted eerily towards her, accompanied by a high-pitched squeaking sound.

"Hello?" she called apprehensively. "Is someone there?"

As the apparition came closer, she realised it was nothing more menacing than an old woman pushing a shopping trolley through the mist, piled high with a peculiar variety of odds and ends. Tejana could see crushed tin cans, empty bottles, pile of old clothes, ragged umbrellas with broken spokes, a few books with most of the pages hanging loose, an old bed-roll and numerous plastic bags with unidentified contents. The squeaking noise was coming from the badly balanced wheels as the trolley clanked along. The old woman had long iron-grey hair, sticking out haphazardly from under a knitted woollen hat. Tejana assumed she was elderly from her pronounced stoop, but it was impossible to tell her true age under all the accumulated grime. She was dressed in a filthy, frayed old coat about five sizes too big for her, while several pairs of fingerless gloves were layered on to her gnarled hands. On her feet, she wore a pair of scuffed old army boots with the soles flapping loose. She seemed to be having some kind of ongoing argument with herself, mumbling unintelligibly in a tone that alternated between aggressive belligerence and a kind of indignant whining.

"Hello?" Tejana tried again. "Ma'am? Can you hear me?"

The raddled old woman simply kept muttering and walking, as though the Time Lady wasn't even there. _She can't see me_, Tejana thought in frustration, watching as the tramp vanished into the mist. For a few seconds, she could still hear the rough old voice muttering in the distance and the receding clank of the trolley wheels. Then there was an ominous grinding noise and a flash of white light shone opaquely through the mist. After that, there was only heavy silence.

Before Tejana could try to draw any conclusions from the weird sequence of events, a tall man with dark hair burst into view in front of her. He was wearing a smart, beautifully-cut business suit and was carrying a leather briefcase. He was looking worriedly at his expensive gold watch, as though he was afraid of being late for an important appointment.

Tejana decided to try again. Perhaps the old woman had just been old and delusional, lost in her own mind. This man looked both sane and rational. Perhaps he would have some idea of what was going on. "Hello? Excuse me, Sir? Can you tell me what this place is?"

Once again, there was no response and the man just kept walking unseeingly right past her.

A chill of realisation struck her with the force of a bullet. _ They're humans!_ _Humans who have fallen through a crack and ended up here, in this no-place. They're not time-sensitive, so they don't even know what's happened to them. They just keep on living their lives, as though nothing has happened, even though there's no life left to live._

Even as this revelation sank into her mind, pure white light flashed and another grinning crack opened up in front of the hurrying man. Blinded by the sudden radiance, Tejana managed just a fleeting glimpse of a strange, alien world on the other side of the gaping fissure, a dreamlike impression of lush, green forests and ape-like humanoid figures dressed in animal skins.

"Look out!" she screamed in warning. "Hey, you! STOP!"

But the elegantly-dressed businessman had produced a mobile phone from his pocket and was irritably stabbing at the buttons. Without even breaking his impatient stride, he marched straight through the waiting crack and it slammed shut behind him like a greedy mouth.

Tejana shuddered as it finally became clear to her what was happening. _Cracks within cracks_. Reality itself splintering over and over again, into a myriad of different places and possibilities, like countless reflections of a reflection. People wiped from their own existence, falling through into other worlds, other time-lines, other dimensions. Her stomach churned in dull, horrified compassion. What would happen to that poor man, thrown into a savage reality he couldn't possibly comprehend or even believe in? What chance did he have to survive? He would probably wander around dazedly asking for the nearest internet cafe, until he ended up decorated with a bunch of herbs in some cannibal's cooking pot, crocodile skin shoes and all. And what had happened to the old tramp lady? Where in all the infinite number of possible universes had she ended up? Is this what happened to everyone who was absorbed by the cracks? If so, how many more displaced souls were there out there, eternally lost and forgotten in worlds not their own?

The concealing silver mists swirled around her again, but Tejana no longer found them beautiful. Instead, they were deadly and terrible. Somewhere out there, she knew there would be a crack with her name on it, and sooner or later it would be coming for her. The only slight advantage she had was that she was a Time Lady and she could see the fragmentation of reality clearly. Perhaps, if she searched hard enough and was very lucky, she could find a crack that would take her home again.

Behind her, she could hear a grief-stricken sobbing. Turning, she saw the worst sight of all. A tiny little boy, not more than four years old, was wandering alone in the mist, crying his eyes out. He was clutching a well-worn teddy bear with only one eye, holding it up to his face for comfort. "Mummy!" he cried. "Daddy? Where are you? I can't find you! I'm scared! MUMMY!"

Tejana felt a stab of impotent rage at the terrible unfairness of it. Why the hell was this happening? Where were all these cracks coming from? What had gone so dreadfully wrong with the balance of the Universe to cause this? This child had obviously been stolen from the real world by a crack. The parents he was calling for so desperately would never come. They would have immediately forgotten him and would be living their lives without him, never understanding why their hearts were so unaccountably hollow and dead.

With a sense of mocking inevitability, the ground in front of the child split open in a blaze of white glory. But this time, to Tejana's horror, there was no other world waiting on the other side. Instead, all she could see beyond the pearly glow of the Time-fire was emptiness and oblivion, a crushing, soul-destroying blankness. _Silence..._she cringed inwardly, all her primal instincts recognising what she saw without understanding how or why. _Silence and the end of all things!_

"No!" she screamed, hurling herself forward in a doomed attempt to save the child, who was blindly stumbling closer and closer to his fate. But before she could reach him, something seized her around the waist and ruthlessly dragged her backwards, away from the toddler. "NOOOOO!"

Then everything seemed to explode. Tendrils of white flame shot outwards from the crack, wrapping around the little boy and snaking past him, reaching for Tejana with single-minded purpose.

"SILENCE WILL FALL!" an enormous voice boomed out in malicious satisfaction, shattering the air all around her into tiny sharp shards that seemed to dig into her eardrums.

She kicked and fought wildly, trying to get back to the child, frantic to rescue him. But once again, the invisible grip pulling at her was unbreakable, hauling her out of the reach of the approaching Time-fire.

"Mummy! MUMMY!" the little boy wailed, his tear-stained features twisted in anguish as he was pulled through the crack into never-ending shadow. His screams tore right through her, as though it was her own unborn son calling to her. But there was nothing she could do, nothing to save either him or herself.

Yet another crack was yawning at her feet, waiting for her. The invisible arms around her waist pulled her into it and there was a bewildering flash of orange and then everything went dark.


	3. Chapter 3

**_Author's Note: Hello again. Thankyou very much to everyone who reviewed the last chapter - TheGreatWhite, MountainLord-92, The Mouse's Rose, MayFairy, TheWritingKat, EmmaMarie, Lexy Summers, GuesssWho, EDZEL2, Neapolitan Dreamss, yulicee, Guest, Lovelyone797, sailormajinmoon, Aietradaea (x 2), Kira, Weiryn, SawManiac211 and Theta'sWosrtNightmare (x2)._  
**

**_To Lovelyone97: Thanks so much for your review, I'm glad to know the chapter made you emotional, that's a great compliment for a writer!  
_**

**_To sailormajinmoon: I'm afraid you may have to wait until the next chapter for the Master and John Hart stuff, because I ran out of space in this one. Hope that is OK. And thanks so much for the feedback.  
_**

**_To Kira: Thank you for your compliment. I hope you enjoy this chapter too!  
_**

**_Special thanks to the people who are also following my other new story, "Revenge, Best Served HOT!", it's so nice to have your support when I am trying something different with my writing :)  
_**

**_So...here's the next bit...  
_**

* * *

**- CHAPTER THREE -**

"_It was beautiful. They used to call it the Shining World of the Seven Systems. And on the continent of Wild Endeavour, in the Mountains of Solace and Solitude, _

_there stood the Citadel of the Time Lords, the oldest race in the Universe...looking down on the galaxies below...sworn never to interfere, only to watch..." _

_The Tenth Doctor, The Sound of Drums_

* * *

The noise was incredible! A hundred...no, a _thousand _voices, all talking at once inside the confines of her head. Tejana felt as if she was standing in the middle of an enormous auditorium packed full of people, all of them carrying on separate conversations at the top of their voices. It was worse than a buzz saw, cutting through her brain, especially since these days she was so used to the relative silence of the psychic link. After the Time War, with only the Doctor and the Master left to share the connection with her, it had been kind of like three people rattling around by themselves in a huge deserted house, endlessly wandering through countless empty rooms that had once been full. As a result, there had been no real need to maintain her lifelong defence of always keeping her mental shields at maximum and she had become lazy, mostly leaving her senses wide open unless the circumstances dictated otherwise.

Now though, whatever this place was, the need for defence had obviously returned, unless she wanted blood to start running out of her ears. Instinctively, she slammed her shields up as far as they could go, isolating herself from the deafening psychic clamour, just as she had learned to do so long ago.

_Oh gods_, she thought with some irritation, already feeling her head starting to throb. _That's going to cause one mother of a headache!_

She knew she needed to open her eyes and look around, but the truth was, she didn't want to. All she wanted was for all this to just go away. By keeping her eyes tightly closed, she could pretend it was still vaguely possible that she might wake up in the big white bed in the TARDIS at any minute, safe in the Master's arms, knowing it had all been a horrible nightmare. The grief at being unable to save the tiny human child from the oblivion of the crack was achingly raw and painful. In some strange, metaphorical way, by failing to help the little boy she couldn't help feeling that she had betrayed her own unborn son.

Yet as much as she wanted to deny the reality of the situation, once the tumultuous noise in her head had faded away and her senses clarified, she felt an intense flicker of apprehension creeping along her spine, replacing her initial disorientation. Something was wrong, something really, really obvious that she was missing. Something was so very, very out of place...

And then it hit her. _All the voices had been speaking Gallifreyan._

Shocked at the impossible realisation, she sat bolt upright, her eyes snapping open. She was sitting in the middle of a narrow stone corridor she had never seen before. Even so...even though with all of her being she knew it couldn't be true...she had no doubt in her mind where she was. She could feel the latent power humming through the stone beneath her, that potent sense of being unutterably old and yet forever new at the same time. In all her travels, there had only ever been one place in the Universe that felt like that.

___Gallifrey._

* * *

Down inside the dark tunnels of the Underhenge, a little group of Roman soldiers huddled together, curiously sorting through the motley collection of Cyber-weapons the Doctor had found abandoned in the cavern containing the Pandorica. Rory had gone above, carefully carrying the little red ring box up to Amy, hoping somehow to use the symbol of their love to trigger her lost memories. The Doctor was pacing back and forth frenetically in front of the Pandorica, a communicator held tightly to his ear, his steps raising little puffs of dust in his wake as he went.

"It's a trap!" River was saying. "It has to be! They used Amy to construct a scenario you'd believe, to get close to you."

The Doctor ran his free hand through his floppy brown hair. "Why? Who'd do that? What_ for_? It doesn't make sense!"

The only answer he received from the communicator was the sound of a series of small explosions.

"River! RIVER!" he yelled. Still there was no reply, just the crackling noise of what he assumed were fiery sparks fizzing across the TARDIS console. "River, what's happening?"

At last he heard her voice, breathless with anxiety. "I don't know! It's the engines. Doctor, there's something wrong with the TARDIS, like something else is controlling it!"

"You're flying it wrong!"

"I'm flying it perfectly!" she snapped. "You taught me!"

"Where are you? What's the date reading?"

There was a swivelling sound over the communicator as River turned the monitor towards her. "It's the 26th of June, 2010."

The Doctor felt as if someone had just poured cold water down the back of his neck. That date...everything kept coming back to that date, the date of Amy's wedding...and now River was there too, at that exact point in time and space, together with the TARDIS. It was much more than just a coincidence.

"You need to get out of there now!" he instructed urgently. "Any other time zone, just go!"

More familiar TARDIS-related sounds filtered back to him, levers being pulled, buttons being pressed. Then River's tense voice returned, "I can't break free!"

"Well then, shut down the TARDIS! Shut down everything!"

"I can't!" River gritted out. The Doctor had never heard the confident archaeologist sound so desperate before.

Just then, he heard a voice in the background, an eerie, unearthly intonation that grated on his ears. "SILENCE WILL FALL! SILENCE WILL FALL!"

"River, what was that?" he demanded. "River?"

"I don't know!" she responded. "Someone else is flying the TARDIS. An external force. I've lost control!"

"But how?" the Doctor muttered, talking to himself as much as River. For the first time in a very long while, he was baffled, completely at a loss. Normally he had all the answers. But for once he had no explanation and no solutions to offer. "_Why?_"

At that moment, a shrill, high-pitched whining sound screeched through the air, stabbing through his head like an ice-pick. Wincing in discomfort, he stuffed the little finger of his right hand into his free ear, trying to screen out the noise. He was so intent on his conversation with River, he didn't notice as the entire group of Roman soldiers all fell forward at the waist, like puppets with all their strings cut.

"Listen to me, River!" he ordered. "Just land her! Anywhere! Emergency landing now! There are cracks in Time. I've seen them – they're everywhere and they're getting wider. I'm pretty sure there was one here just now and I think it's taken someone important, so important, but I can't remember!"

"Taken someone?" River said sharply. "Who?"

"That's just it, I don't know. Rory said she was a tiny little thing with long red hair."

He heard the hiss of her indrawn breath over the communicator. "Tejana!"

The Doctor stopped stock still, recognising the name he had written down in Gallifreyan in his notebook. It still had no meaning for him, but obviously it did for River. "You know who she is? For me to forget her, she has to be a direct part of my timeline. One of my companions? One of my friends?"

There was a deep pause. Then River said compassionately, "I'm so sorry, Doctor, but it's much worse than that. Tejana is your daughter."

The Doctor felt as if she had reached through the communicator and slapped him across the face. "My daughter!" he gasped, trying to wrap his head around the astonishing concept. It seemed nonsensical that he could have no memory of something so intrinsic to his life, but every time he tried to recall a girl named Tejana, he just kept drawing a blank. There was only him. There had always been only him. His entire family was dead and gone, a long, long time ago. Just the thought of being a father made him break out in a cold sweat. In fact, it was one of the most intimidating ideas he'd ever had. But he was sure River wouldn't lie, especially under these dire circumstances. "I have a daughter?"

"_Yes_, you have a daughter!" River said. "Her name is Tejanakaturadilena and she means everything to you."

"Everything..." the Doctor repeated. "And yet I can't remember a single thing about her. River, I'm telling you one more time, land the TARDIS, _right now_!"

Behind him, the Roman soldiers straightened again with a peculiar, almost mechanical noise, like robotic servo-mechanisms whirring and clicking. Unnoticed, they turned as one towards the Doctor, their eyes cold and blank and menacing.

"The TARDIS exploding is what causes the cracks," he continued, pacing even faster now, the words pouring out of him in a cascade. "But we can stop them ever happening, if you just _land her_!"

"It's not safe!" River refused, apparently still wrestling with the console of the malfunctioning time machine.

The Doctor was about to argue further when a huge, metallic rumbling sound interrupted him, reverberating thunderously around the room. Pivoting sharply, he turned to look at the Pandorica, the hand holding the communicator dropping away from his ear. Two of the walls of the grey cube were retracting, slowly sliding back and allowing pure, white, blinding light to spill from the interior into the gloomy shadows of the Underhenge.

"Well now," the Time Lord murmured, transfixed by the ominous sight. "Ready to come out now, are we?"

* * *

Tejana stared blankly at the unremarkable stone wall in front of her. Unremarkable in appearance, perhaps, but nevertheless still one of the most confusing and frightening things she had ever seen, something that couldn't possibly exist. She thought back to the flash of orange she had seen through the crack as she fell, and at last understood that she had been seeing the burnt umber skies of her birth world. Trembling, she wrapped her arms tightly around herself and rocked back and forth, like a child seeking protection from the cold.

In her timeline, her home planet was gone, completely and utterly destroyed during the cataclysm of the Time War. And yet, here she was. Somehow, by falling through the crack, she had managed to do the one thing a Time Lord could never do. She had contravened the Fourth Law of Time, which stated that under no circumstances could anyone ever travel into Gallifrey's past. The Protocols of Linearity had been one of the first things she had ever learned as a student of the Academy and they had been drummed into her, over and over again, until they became as much a fact of her life as breathing, a part of the base code of her Universe. Back then, before the advent of the Time War, each Time Lord's personal chronology was always synchronised with that of Gallifrey. It had been so incredibly important, not only to ensure that their timelines had always remained relative when they met outside of Gallifrey, but also to maintain the continuity of the causal nexus. The Time Lords had been able to see all of time and space, the sheer magnitude of its infinite terror and majesty – even they needed some sort of reference point, some sort of unchanging anchor from which to begin, if only to retain some semblance of sanity. And that anchor had always been Gallifrey.

Despite the physical destruction of the planet during the Time War, her past had always remained inviolate. Even notorious renegades like the Doctor and the Master would never even contemplate messing around with the history of Gallifrey, it was much too dangerous. The more the enormity of what had happened sank into her brain, the more she felt as if the sky had fallen down and struck her on the head. It would never have occurred to her in a million years that she would be the one to end up breaking the biggest Time Lord taboo of all.

_But I'm not a Time Lord any more, am I?_ she told herself. _I'm one of the Neverwere. I fell through the Time-fire. I've been erased from Time and I never existed. So it's probably a bit pointless to be so concerned with contravening the Protocols of Linearity when you never HAD any linearity to start with._

The thought was oddly comforting. The realisation she had been wiped from Time was utterly devastating, but after her strict upbringing, it seemed a lot more acceptable than to commit the ultimate sin of breaking the Fourth Law of Time.

She drew herself up on her knees, concentrating on pulling herself together. All right, she was on Gallifrey, that was a given. But _when _was she? How far back in the planet's past had she fallen? It would be easy enough to find out using the psychic link, but she was reluctant to do that. If any of the other Time Lords sensed her and picked up on the fact that she was out of her own timeline, the repercussions could be immense. She shuddered as she remembered the horrific "re-education program" she had been subjected to in her youth when she and the Doctor had transgressed the Time Lord rule of non-intervention. The Time Lords had no scruples about disciplining their own people when they thought it necessary. And she had no intention of ever going through anything like that again. So the psychic link would have to stay firmly closed for now, to prevent the risk of discovery. She would have to gather information the old-fashioned way, by poking around a bit.

Assuming she _could_ poke around, of course, considering she didn't technically exist. She waved her hands in front of her face. She had no experience of the Neverwere except for the Could-Have-Been-King's army, encountered in the catacombs of Avalon. But as far as she could tell, she wasn't anything like them. For one thing, she wasn't green and luminous and see-through, which she had to admit was a bit of a relief. She banged her fists hard on the stone floor, feeling the pain of the impact tingling up her forearms. Her body seemed solid enough, so walking through walls didn't appear to be a viable option either, especially since it was apparently still possible for her to be injured.

As she examined her hands, the previously damaged skin around her wrists caught her eye. The deep, black, angry-looking weals left by the Master's touch had faded to a few, faint marks and were hardly even noticeable any more. _Of course, the Eye of Harmony still exists!_ she thought with a surge of nostalgic joy. The Time Lords had always healed faster on Gallifrey, due to their proximity to the Eye of Harmony, the black hole Rassilon had harnessed eons ago and set at the centre of the planet, holding everything in balance.

Even better, the invisible presence that had threatened her back in the Underhenge seemed to have vanished. Despite everything she had recently been through, other than the headache caused by the overload of the psychic link, she felt better than she had for ages.

Her hand crept down to rest reassuringly on her belly. _Hang in there, kid. We'll get back to Daddy, I promise._

"You there!"

The clear, disdainful voice cut through her reverie. Tejana's head shot up, only to see a girl standing in the middle of the corridor, regarding her with an expression of disgust. The newcomer had a thin, sharp-featured face and light brown hair, twisted into a practical knot at the back of her head. She was wearing a neat, black, ankle-length dress, unadorned except for a Gallifreyan sigil stitched in scarlet and orange over her left breast. Tejana recognised her attire as a uniform. She had seen it often enough as she was growing up. This girl was a housemaid, employed by the Time Lord Academy. And, going by the scarlet and orange of her service sigil, she was attached specifically to the Prydonian Chapter.

"Are you talking to me?" she queried in surprise. She was unaccustomed to servants addressing her in such a peremptory manner. During her time in the Academy, she could remember any number of them, always unobtrusively in the background, busily employed doing the mountains of work required to keep everything running smoothly. But they were always extremely deferential and rarely dared to speak to any of the students, unless they were spoken to first. According to the strict Gallifreyan social structure, it just wasn't done.

"Of course I'm talking to you!" the girl snapped, in a tone that could never even come close to being described as deferential. From her uncultured Southern Gallifreyan accent, Tejana guessed she hailed somewhere from the Continent of Endless Philosophy, maybe from the agricultural settlements in the Valley of Soonwell. "There's no-one else here, is there?"

A spark of haughty anger lit Tejana's green eyes. "Now, wait just a minute..."

"Oh, there's always one, isn't there?" the girl ranted. "Turn my back for a minute and someone always gets lost from the orientation tour. Too busy gaping at everything, I suppose, just because it's your first time in the big city. Pathetic, I call it." She looked Tejana up and down with contempt. "From the ridiculous way you're dressed, I'm guessing you're a Shabogan, am I right?"

Tejana glanced down at her leather jacket and faded blue jeans. Orientation tour? _Shabogan? _Then it dawned on her. The Time Lords were an impossibly formal and traditional society. This girl would never have seen anything like her casual, Earth-style clothing before. Therefore she had mistaken Tejana for a new servant, and a Shabogan at that. No wonder she had shown such unusual disrespect.

Tejana was about to set the girl straight in no uncertain terms, when it suddenly occurred to her that passing herself off as a Shabogan maid-servant might not be such a bad idea, after all. At the very least, it might give her an excuse to ask some questions, in an effort to find out exactly what timeline she had ended up in. And it wasn't as though she could traipse around Gallifrey in her full Time Lady glory, was it? A new Time Lady turning up inside the Academy without any records would definitely occasion some unwanted investigation. Whereas servants came and went all the time and nobody paid much attention to them at all.

"Yes, ma'am," she responded meekly, keeping her head down. "I'm a Shabogan. Just arrived from Low Town, ma'am."

The girl clicked her tongue in satisfaction. "I thought so. What's your name, girl?"

Tejana racked her brains, trying to think of a suitable alias. Tejanakaturadilena was much too identifiable as a high-caste Gallifreyan name. It was not at all appropriate for a Shabogan.

"Kat," she said quickly, seeing the girl give her a curious look at her hesitation. "Ma'am."

The girl sniffed fastidiously at the short, uninteresting name. The length of a Gallifreyan's name tended to be an indication of their status, which meant that the low opinion she had already formed of the new servant had just been confirmed.

"Well, _Kat_, my name is Fionnula. I am the Head Housemaid for the Prydonian Chapter of the Time Lord Academy. And you have much to learn, if you intend to remain in service here."

Tejana bobbed a curtsey, just as she remembered the servants doing back when she lived on Gallifrey. "Yes, ma'am."

Fionnula swept off down the corridor, obviously expecting her to follow. "The first thing we need to do is to get you some appropriate attire."

Tejana gritted her teeth in annoyance and hurried along behind her, almost trotting to keep up. Ruefully, she wondered how long she would be able to pretend to be a servant without forgetting herself and blowing her stack. Pride and arrogance had been bred into her since birth. Coupled with the fiery temper she had inherited with this new regeneration, subservience wasn't something that came naturally to her. Placidly taking orders from someone like Fionnula definitely wasn't going to be easy. Although, at least now she knew why this part of the Academy was so unfamiliar to her. It was one of the windowless passageways used by the servants. She was willing to bet none of the students had ever set foot here.

Fionnula was not one to waste time. Before long, Tejana found herself in a small cubicle, changing into a black dress similar to the one the other girl wore, only with a much less elaborate service sigil, as befitted her junior rank.

"Hurry up!" the other girl had ordered. "And for Rassilon's sake, do something about that awful hair!"

Tejana obediently twined her abundant hair into a plait, her mind racing as she bundled it up in a knot at the back of her head. So far, she'd had no further clues as to what time-frame she had ended up in. The problem with Gallifrey was that things had often gone for centuries without changing. Just because she was familiar with the uniforms worn by the maids didn't necessarily mean that she had arrived anywhere near her own era at the Academy. If only Damon was around here somewhere. She was sure she could get him to help her, even if he didn't remember who she was - that was the sort of person he was. And he was brilliant at temporal physics. If anyone could figure out a way to reverse the effects of the crack, it was him. But she supposed the chances of coming across him were rather slim. It wasn't going to be much use if she found him and he was still only eight years old, for instance.

She rejoined Fionnula, who was standing outside the cubicle and tapping her foot. "Hmmm..." the other girl said, eyeing her dress critically. "I suppose it will have to do. You are very small, aren't you? I must say, I hope you are stronger than you look. There's no room here for girls who can't work."

"Ma'am, may I ask a question?" Tejana asked, making sure her voice sounded as timid and unsophisticated as she could, even though she was actually itching to slap Fionnula across her smug face.

"What is it?"

"I was just wondering...what the name of the current Time Lord President is?"

Fionnula gave her an incredulous look. "You are here to work, Kat, not to obtain a political education. Time Lord matters concern only Time Lords, something you will soon learn, if you manage to remain here long enough!"

_Well, I guess that told me_, Tejana thought, disappointed at her failure to obtain more information. She supposed she hadn't been very subtle. She would have to work on that.

She continued to follow Fionnula through the dark passageways until they came to an enormous kitchen area. Tejana gazed around in amazement. Everywhere she looked, there were people working frantically on the numerous long benches. The room fairly bristled with technology, the walls lined with massive convection ovens, rows of thermally-insulated compartments and magnetic refrigerators, laser slicing devices, huge mixing machines and plenty of other equipment she couldn't even begin to identify. There was food piled everywhere, all at various stages of preparation. Tejana had never seen anything quite like it. The sight was a complete revelation to her. She had eaten countless meals in the Prydonian Refectory, but she had never actually bothered to wonder where the food had come from. It had just turned up and she had eaten it and somebody else had tidied away her mess afterwards. It had never occurred to her that there were this many people slaving away down below to make it all happen.

Fionnula led the way over to a tall girl with pale blonde hair and a round face, also dressed in the black maid's uniform. She was busy preparing a tray, carefully setting out some porcelain crockery. Tejana stared at the delicate, wafer-thin teacups, a faint memory stirring in the back of her mind.

"Dyoni, this is Kat," Fionnula said briskly. "She's one of the new Shabogan recruits. Nevertheless, I have decided that she will be taking over Minya's position as an upper housemaid. Kat, this is Dyoni. She will instruct you in your duties. Please be aware that I will be watching you closely for any sign of misconduct. That is all."

With that, she swept away, leaving Tejana with Dyoni. Tejana only just barely refrained from poking her tongue out at her retreating back.

Dyoni gave her a shy smile, as if she knew exactly what Tejana was thinking but was too scared to say so. "Hello."

"Hello," Tejana responded. "She's a bit much, isn't she?"

"Oh, she's not so bad, once you get used to her," Dyoni answered. Tejana could tell immediately that she was probably the sort of person who had a good word to say about everybody, no matter how much of an ass they were. "You're lucky she's given you upper housemaid duties. Most Shabogan recruits get stuck scrubbing pots in the kitchen. Still, I suppose that's got a lot to do with the way you look."

Tejana raised her eyebrows. "The way I look?"

"You know...pretty," Dyoni said matter-of-factly. "You're presentable enough to be allowed to serve upstairs. The Time Lords don't like anything that's ugly. Everything has to be as perfect as possible, at least on the surface. Including the servants, even though they never actually look at them. You'll see what I mean before too long."

The words, slightly tinged with bitterness, surprised Tejana. Perhaps she had misread Dyoni. She certainly didn't seem to have anything good to say about the Time Lords. It wasn't as if the description was fair, either. Some of the Time Lords might have been like that, but not all of them, surely, no matter what era this was...

"Anyway," Dyoni continued, putting a crystal bowl full of sweetmeats on the tray. "You're a Shabogan. I hardly need to tell you about class prejudice."

For a brief instant, Tejana had a sickening flashback of Kelios's tortured face as he died on Mnemosyne. _I...just wanted...my turn in the sun. Just once...was that..so very wrong?_

"No," she replied in a quiet voice. "No, I don't suppose you do."

Dyoni picked up the tray. "Come on. We have to take Lord Borusa his tea at this time every day. Minya used to do it, so it'll be one of your duties from now on."

Both Tejana's hearts leapt at the familiar name. _Lord Borusa!_ Oh, now she was getting somewhere! Of course, Borusa had been in charge of the Prydonian Academy for a very long period of time, so it didn't tell her anything specific, but at least it narrowed things down a bit. No wonder the delicately-patterned cups had looked familiar. She had poured Borusa's tea often enough while she had been his personal assistant on Gallifrey. It was funny, the humans on Earth thought that they had invented tea. Humans had a lot of ridiculous beliefs. Tejana didn't know exactly where in the Universe the beverage had originated, but she did know that Borusa had drunk it for as long as she could remember, religiously and with great ceremony, every afternoon in his study.

"So...this Borusa...is he a Cardinal?" she asked innocently, trying to narrow the temporal possibilities down even further.

"Oh no," Dyoni said. "Not yet anyway. My father says he's ambitious enough to get there before long, though, one way or another." She shot Tejana a nervous glance. "I shouldn't have said that. We're only phlebeians. Time Lord politics have nothing to do with us."

"My lips are sealed," Tejana assured her as they moved towards the entrance to the kitchen. "Here, shouldn't I carry that? You did say it was going to be my job from now on."

Reluctantly, Dyoni handed over the tray. "All right, but for Rassilon's sake, do be careful."

"I don't do anything for Rassilon's sake," Tejana said with a scowl. "But I take your point. What happened to this Minya anyway? Why isn't she doing this stuff any more?"

Dyoni's face shut down like a door slamming. "She left."

_Oooo-kay_, Tejana thought, as the other girl turned abruptly away. _Note to self, don't talk about the mysterious Minya._

"We have to take a transmat up to the Great Hall," Dyoni said over her shoulder, her voice now cool and business-like.

Tejana followed her into the tube-like matter conversion station, carefully balancing the heavily-laden tray. Within moments, there was an almost imperceptible shimmer and then they were in a completely different place.

"Try to be as inconspicuous as possible," Dyoni told her anxiously, as they stepped forward from the transmat. "Don't draw attention to yourself."

But Tejana wasn't listening. Instead, she was looking around her with tears in her eyes. Oh gods, the Great Hall of the Prydonian Academy. She had never thought to see this place again, with its huge, vaulted ceiling, its polished onyx floor and its majestic sweeping staircase. It was filled with students scuttling back and forth, all of them dressed in the orange and scarlet Prydonian colours. Many of them wore the simple tunics and trousers Tejana remembered so well, but here and there she spotted the swirl of formal robes. Enormous, arched window embrasures filled an entire wall, providing a stunning view of the snow-capped Mount Cadon. Overhead, the glorious tangerine sky blazed like a sheet of flame, punctured only by the double spectacle of the twin suns. Tejana stood transfixed, unable to tear her gaze away. _So beautiful_...how could she have forgotten how beautiful it was? Memories burned through her, all the good times...and there had been good times here, wonderful times, times of love and laughter and joy, no matter how many bad times there had also been.

She was so absorbed in her conflicting emotions, she didn't even notice the three girls in elegant silk robes coming towards her until she caught a vicious, breath-stealing elbow in the ribs. Gasping in shock, she accidently allowed the tray to tilt sideways. All the beautiful, expensive crockery belonging to Lord Borusa fell to the floor and smashed into pieces. She could see it happening, but there wasn't anything she could do to stop it. Dyoni cried out in deep distress, falling to her knees in amongst the ruined shards.

Tejana glared at the tall girl who had deliberately collided with her, fury blazing in her eyes. The girl matched her, look for look. She wasn't exactly beautiful, but her strong features were attractive in an extremely eye-catching way. Long dark hair cascaded down her back, dressed elaborately in the usual style of the high-caste Gallifreyan female. "You should watch where you're going!" she remarked in a haughty voice, before continuing on her way with her two companions. Tinkling laughter echoed back to Tejana, enraging her even further. Trembling with fury, she took an irate step after the girl, only to be halted by a hand grasping her around the wrist.

"I wouldn't," a male voice advised. "Ushas can be a bit of a bitch, but she's not worth it, believe me."

The words seemed to explode inside Tejana's head. _Ushas!_ The only Ushas she had ever heard of had ended up becoming the Rani. _But that meant..._

Slowly, like an automaton, she turned to face the speaker, who was still holding on to her arm. He was tall and slender, with a mop of curly blonde hair and laughing blue eyes.

"Hello, are you new?" he asked cheerfully. "Nice to meet you. My name's Theta Sigma."


	4. Chapter 4

**_Author's Note: _**

**_Hello all! Hey, how cool was 'Asylum of the Daleks'? Isn't it great to have Doctor Who back again? Now all we need for perfection is the addition of the Simm!Master!_  
**

**_Thanks very much to everyone who reviewed the previous chapter: gallifrey calls now, TheGreatWhite, MayFairy, Daughter of the Master, sailormajinmoon, SawManiac211, Lexy Summers, GuesssWho, MountainLord-92, Theta'sWorstNightmare, EDZEL2, Guest, Lost Moon (x3), Aietradaea, yulicee and EmmaMarie._**

**_To sailormajinmoon: Thanks so much. As I've said to some of the other reviewers, I wasn't sure whether people would like this angle or not, but I've always been fascinated by Gallifrey, so it's something I really wanted to write. It's just so lovely that there are some readers who are prepared to come with me on the journey ;)  
_**

**_To guest: Thanks, so glad you are liking it. Yep, it's the Doctor - he was known as Theta Sigma back in his Academy days.  
_**

**_To Lost Moon: So happy to have you back again, thanks for all three reviews :)  
_**

* * *

**- CHAPTER FOUR -**

_"I swallow the sound and it swallows me whole, Till there's nothing left inside my soul. As empty as that beating drum, but the sound has just begun..."_

_- 'The Drumming Song' , Florence and the Machine.  
_

* * *

For the first time in a long, long while, Tejana was at a loss for words. She was aware that people were stopping and staring at them, and at Dyoni on her knees weeping amongst the shattered crockery, but she didn't care. She just gazed at the young man who would one day become her father and she had absolutely no idea what to do. As ridiculous as it may seem, it had never once occurred to her that she might have strayed this far from her own timeline. She had prepared herself for the possibility of meeting the people from her own past - Damon, Tabor, Borusa, even Councillor Rohan. But for some strange reason, she had never considered bumping into her father.

"Are you all right?" he asked, tightening his grip on her arm to steady her. "You've gone as white as a sheet."

"I...I..." she stammered helplessly.

Then Dyoni came to her rescue. "You must forgive us both for being so distressed, Lord Theta," she said, wringing her hands together, her eyes red from crying. "But we will probably both lose our places over this. Once Fionnula finds out..." Her voice trailed away into despair.

"Fionnula?" Theta queried. "Is she the one with a face like a half-sucked lemon? Always looks like she's been drinking acetic acid?"

Despite her shock, Tejana found herself stifling a laugh. She had to give him due credit – that was exactly what Fionnula's face looked like.

"She's the Head Housemaid, my Lord," Dyoni explained hopelessly. "She'll never accept any excuse for this."

"Oh yes, she will," Theta said. He inclined his head towards Tejana. "Don't worry...er...what was your name?"

At last, Tejana managed to find her voice. "Tej...um...I mean, Kat. My name is Kat."

"Don't worry, Kat, none of this was your fault. Here's what we're going to do. Your friend...?"

He looked inquiringly at the other girl.

"Dyoni, my Lord," she supplied hurriedly, the words tumbling over each other in her eagerness.

"Dyoni will return to the kitchen and rustle up some more afternoon tea for Lord Borusa," he instructed. "In the meantime, Kat will come with me to his study, where I promise I'll sort all this out. All right?"

"Oh yes, my Lord. At once, my Lord," Dyoni gasped, rising to her feet and bobbing a grateful curtsey. "Thank you, my Lord."

With that, she disappeared back in the direction of the transmat terminal, almost at a run.

"Whew, that's better," Theta remarked. "Any more of that 'my-Lording' business and I might have done something drastic."

"You don't like being called 'my Lord'?" Tejana asked, still watching his youthful face with an almost hungry fascination. In outward appearance, he didn't look much younger than the Doctor she had left behind in the Underhenge. However, _that_ Doctor had old eyes – eyes that had seen too much, too many terrible things, too much darkness, over the long centuries of his life. They all had them, those ancient, world-weary eyes – she, the Doctor and the Master, the last three survivors of the Time War – the one thing they couldn't disguise, the one small clue that gave them away as Time Lords, no matter how many times they regenerated. But Theta's eyes were so young, so fresh, so unspoiled. As she looked at his innocent smile, the thought of all that lay ahead of him wrenched bitterly at her hearts.

He shrugged in answer to her question. "Not a lot. I'd much rather you called me Theta, if you don't mind."

"All right then...Theta," she said softly, testing the name out on her tongue. She had called the Doctor many things before in the past, but never 'Theta'.

He nodded, a pleased expression on his face. "Come on, let's pick this all up and then we'll get on to Borusa's study, before someone else gets in first and tells him what happened."

Together, they knelt and began loading the broken shards of crockery back on to the tray. Around them, the curious onlookers finally realised that the show was over and began to drift on about their own business again.

"How did you know...that I was new?" Tejana queried, her fingers closing around a particularly jagged fragment.

"Careful, you'll cut yourself," he warned, taking it gently but firmly from her. "Here, let me. Actually, it was easy. Firstly, because I'm a genius." He gave her a cheeky grin. "I'm only telling you this because you'll find out soon enough anyway. And secondly, because you do tend to stand out."

"Stand out?"

"Your hair..." he said with an inquisitive sidelong glance. "It's the most amazing colour, especially against the black of your uniform."

Again, Tejana almost laughed aloud at the irony. _Always with the red hair, Doctor, even this far back!_

"My _father_ always called it ginger," she said, her green eyes dancing.

"Ginger..." Theta repeated, looking thoughtfully at her bundled-up tresses. Retrieving the last broken pieces, he dusted off his hands, picked up the tray and got to his feet. "Ginge...gingety gingety ginge. Hmmm...nice word, I like it. Clever man, your father, is he?"

Tejana also rose, brushing off her long, black dress. "Oh, he has his moments," she said with a secret smile.

"Borusa's study is this way," he told her, carrying the tray and leading the way up the grand staircase. "And if you see Ushas coming again, warn me, all right?"

* * *

Stiff and lifeless, the right arms of the Roman soldiers extended in the direction of the Doctor, their fingers flipping down, as though on a hidden hinge. Sinister black laser pistols extruded from their hands, each of them aimed at the oblivious Time Lord.

The Doctor still had his back to them. He was busy scanning the exterior of the Pandorica with his sonic screwdriver, frantically trying to estimate how long they had until it fully opened, revealing what was inside. The communicator lay on the ground beside him.

River's voice echoed tinnily out of the microphone. "Doctor! Doctor, I've landed her, but I can't open the doors!"

Hastily, he bent down to pick the communicator up, only to see the phalanx of soldiers advancing slowly towards him.

"AMY!" he yelled, realising he had inadvertently sent her into deadly danger up on the surface. But it was much too late to warn Amy – he had too many problems of his own. The communicator fell back to the ground, lying abandoned as two of the soldiers seized him under the elbows and bodily carried him away from the Pandorica. The Doctor struggled, but he could feel the tensile strength of their fingers contracting against his flesh and he knew it was useless.

"Plastic Romans!" he exclaimed, knowing for sure now exactly what he was dealing with. "Duplicates, driven by the Nestene consciousness, eh? What are you doing? What's in there, eh? What's coming out?"

The soldiers stared blankly straight ahead. One by one, they turned to face the Pandorica, as if responding to an unspoken command. The Doctor was left facing the other way, imprisoned between two of the duplicates, unable to see what was going on.

"The Pandorica is ready," one of the Romans announced in an expressionless voice.

"What, you mean it's open?" the Doctor asked.

Then another voice reverberated through the cavern, a voice so familiar in cadence that it made both the Doctor's hearts turn cold.

"You...have...been...scanned. A-ssessed. Un-der-stood. _Doc-tor!_"

Craning his neck over his shoulder, he saw the shape that haunted him, the thing he saw over and over again in his nightmares, always amid fire and blood and death.

_A Dalek._

This one was pure white, an almost offensive colour, as if it was meant to be some gross caricature of an angel. As he watched in horror, a red Dalek and a yellow Dalek materialised to the right and left of it, in an arrow-head formation.

With robotic grace, the Nestene duplicates spun him around until he faced his tormentors, leaving him no opening for escape.

"Scanned?" he demanded, refusing to show any fear, even though it was obvious that River had been right. This had been a trap all along, designed especially for him with clinical efficiency. "By what? A box?"

"Your limits and capacities have been extrapolated!" another voice boomed out sonorously.

The Doctor's head spun around, trying to identify where the sound was coming from. Shocked, he saw three Cybermen manifest out of thin air. Behind them, a troop of Sontarans also appeared, and even further back, he saw Judoon, Chelonians, Silurians, Drahvin, Blowfish, Zygons, Weevils, Draconians and many, many more. All his enemies, gathered together in the same place, filling the room, with him helpless in the middle of them all.

"The Pandorica is ready," one of the Sontarans said with evident satisfaction.

The grey cube was fully open now, with two sides fully retracted. Inside, amongst a bewildering tangle of technology, the Doctor could see a padded chair, complete with arm, leg and neck restraints. It look almost like a dentist's chair, only about a million times worse.

"Ready for what?" he asked apprehensively.

The shadows of the Underhenge stirred one more time and someone else stepped forward to take centre stage in front of the Pandorica. Someone with a thatch of white-blonde hair, dressed in a black hoodie and black jeans.

"Oh, Doctor," the Master grinned. "Ready for you, of course."

* * *

"Ready?" Theta asked.

"Ready as I'll ever be," Tejana replied, pulling a face.

He gave her a reassuring smile. Then, raising his hand, he gave three sharp knocks on Borusa's study door.

"Come," a cold voice responded.

Tejana activated the latch mechanism and the door swished open. As they stepped inside, she realised the study was just as she remembered it – the luxuriant silk carpet on the floor, the walls lined with exotic artworks and treasures, the double glass doors leading out on to the rooftop garden with all its sweet-smelling plants. And, in the middle of it all, the enormous carved wooden desk, its polished surface gleaming in the late afternoon sunshine.

Tejana shifted her gaze down to the floor, colour tinting her cheeks. She couldn't look at that desk. She had too many embarrassing memories of an intense dream-sharing session she had once experienced with the Master, involving this very room and that very desk and a lot of hot, passionate sex. It had certainly never crossed her mind that she might ever be physically standing here once again.

"Ah, Theta Sigma," Borusa said, his tone faintly puzzled. "I'm afraid I wasn't expecting you. Did we have an appointment?"

Tejana sneaked a look at him, only to avert her eyes again when she saw his lizard-like gaze swivel towards her. This was an earlier incarnation of the man than the one she had known in her day. Here he was much younger in appearance, middle-aged rather than old, with handsome features and a neatly-trimmed blonde beard. But he still had exactly the same knack of seeming to see right through to your soul, his gaze piercing like an ice-cold sword.

"Er...no, Sir," Theta replied. "It's just...well, there's been an accident, Sir."

"An accident?"

Tejana could feel both her hearts beating uncomfortably fast. She could feel his eyes on her like a physical weight. If anyone was going to see through her disguise, it would be Borusa. He had always been adept at spotting any incongruity, any inconsistency. Decades of being in charge of an Academy full of unruly students had taught him many things. She knew from experience that it was almost impossible to tell a direct lie to him, not while those gimlet eyes were boring into you.

"Yes, Sir," Theta continued. "I'm afraid I was breaking the rules and running in the Great Hall, Sir. I collided with this servant and caused your tea-service to be smashed. So I came here with her to own up, because I can't let her be dismissed for something I did."

As he spoke, he carefully placed the tray of smashed crockery on Borusa's desk, as if entering it into evidence in a court of law.

Tejana shot a startled look at him, about to protest. She couldn't let him take the blame. Especially when it had been Ushas's fault. If anyone was to be punished, it should be that haughty bitch. But before she could speak, she felt a sharp pain in her foot as Theta purposely trod on her toe.

"You did this?" Borusa asked. Even without looking up, Tejana could tell he was still gazing at her, although he was actually speaking to Theta. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, Sir," Theta nodded firmly. "It was me."

Borusa stood and majestically strode around his desk to stand in front of Tejana. That was something else he had in common with the later version of him she had known – Borusa never merely walked anywhere. He always 'strode' or 'swept'. That was the kind of man he was. She continued to stare at the floor, feeling the nervous perspiration beginning to gather on her skin under his steady regard.

"What's your name, child?" he inquired. His voice was smooth, with no hint of suspicion. But Tejana knew enough not to be fooled. Borusa never revealed anything he didn't want you to see.

"Kat, milord," she replied, in her best provincial accent, giving him a deferential curtsey.

"Look at me, Kat," he commanded.

Summoning every mental defence she had ever learned, she raised her chin and met his eyes. For a brief moment, she felt a hideous burning pain inside her head as he tried to probe her mind. Once, back when she had lived on Gallifrey, even her unusually strong psychic talents would have been no match for his hard-learned skill. But she had lived through a lot since then and somehow she managed to keep her nerve, presenting him with nothing but a blank wall, an impenetrable illusion of psychic nothingness, just as if she was the unremarkable Shabogan she was pretending to be.

"I see," he said enigmatically, turning away to resume his seat behind the huge desk. "Very well. I see no benefit in punishing the blameless. Theta Sigma, you will report to Prefector Zorac and inform him that I have given you three weeks of detention. That is all."

"Thank you, Sir," Theta replied, while Tejana curtsied again, relief coursing through her veins. That had been a very close call, but she didn't appear to have given herself away. It was very lucky that maids were not generally expected to say much. When it came to Borusa, the less attention she drew to herself, the better she would like it.

They were just about to leave when there was another knock on the door. Borusa gave a faint sigh of exasperation and again said, "Come."

Again the door swished open and this time Fionnula hurried in, carrying a fresh tray, her face drawn and anxious.

"Forgive me, Lord Borusa," she gasped. "I heard what happened and I can only apologise. Kat is a new servant. I should never have entrusted her with your tea service. I can assure you, she will be severely disciplined."

Borusa raised his hand to halt her breathless flow of words. "The matter has been dealt with," he said with cold dignity. "No further action is to be taken, unless you wish to incur my displeasure. Thank you for the tea. Please leave it on my desk before you depart."

"But..." Fionnula began, shooting a furious glare at Tejana.

"Don't let me detain you," Borusa continued. "I'm sure you all have work to do. I know I have."

Fionnula did not dare to say any more, although she clearly wanted to. Instead, she put down the full tray and snatched up the one laden with all the broken fragments, before following Theta and Tejana to the door.

Once they were standing in the passageway outside, Fionnula turned to Theta. "Thank you for your assistance, Lord Theta," she said in a sticky-sweet voice, which was completely at odds with the anger in her eyes. "But I think we can manage from here. Kat, thank Lord Theta for his assistance. Then we must return to our tasks."

Tejana curtsied again, peeking up at him through her eyelashes, to see how he would deal with the overt dismissal. She could tell he was having some difficulty keeping his face straight.

"Thank you, Lord Theta," she repeated obediently.

"My pleasure," he grinned, watching with some sympathy as Fionnula marched her away like an over-conscientious prison guard. "I'll see you again, Kat. Count on it."

* * *

An hour later, Tejana's ears were still ringing from Fionnula's enraged lecture as she and Dyoni scrubbed out what seemed like a never-ending stream of enormous, filthy pots down in the kitchen. Despite being forbidden to punish them by Borusa, the Head Housemaid apparently had no intention of allowing them to get away with their transgression scot-free.

"The Time Lords are meant to be one of the most advanced races in the Universe. Haven't we got some sort of machine to do this stuff?" Tejana asked, wrinkling her nose in distaste as she submerged her arms up to the elbows in the scummy, luke-warm water.

"Of course we do," Dyoni replied. "But are you going to argue the point with Fionnula?"

Tejana sighed. She wasn't sure which had taken more self-control – the psychic tussle to keep Borusa out of her head, or having to fight back the urge to strangle Fionnula every time she saw her.

"I still can't believe Lord Theta took the blame for you," Dyoni said for the hundredth time.

"Yes, it was very nice of him," Tejana agreed absently. Actually, it had been wonderful, although she couldn't say so. Even though the circumstances were completely bizarre and he had no idea who she was, to spend some time with her father without any of the usual tension or conflict that characterised their current relationship...to feel like, for the first time in a long, long while, he was really on her side...it was an amazing emotional buzz. It almost made the whole 'being erased from time' thing worthwhile.

Her companion gave her a sharp glance and flicked some soap-suds at her. "Don't go getting all moony over him, Kat. You'll only end up getting your hearts broken."

Tejana snapped out of her reverie with a shock. "Moony? _Moony?_" she snapped incredulously. "Over the D... over _Theta_? Don't be ridiculous! For Gallifrey's sake, he's my... I mean, he's not my type, believe me."

"Well, I wouldn't kick him out of bed," Dyoni giggled. "And neither would Lady Ushas, from what I've heard."

"Ushas has a thing for him?" It was the first Tejana had ever heard about the Doctor and the Rani being anything more than classmates when they were younger. It made her wonder what else she didn't know about her father. "How do you know?"

"We're servants and servants know everything," Dyoni responded with a sly wink. "They all treat us like furniture and say things in front of us as if we're not even there. According to gossip, it's all a bit one-sided. He was supposed to take her to the Otherstide Ball last year. She spent absolutely _ages_ getting ready and then he just didn't turn up. She was totally furious. Apparently, he got this brilliant idea for some new sort of gadget - a screwdriver, I think it was – at the last minute and got so caught up in it he forgot all about the Ball. She still hasn't forgiven him."

Tejana couldn't help smiling at this story. "Oh yeah, that sounds _so_ like him," she said. Then, at Dyoni's speculative glance, she amended hurriedly, "From what I can tell so far, anyway."

"Well, anyway, that's why Ushas did what she did today. Because she saw Theta looking at you in the Great Hall and she got jealous," Dyoni shrugged. "You'd better watch out for her. She's not a good person to upset."

"Neither am I," Tejana said darkly. "Maybe_ she'd_ better watch out for _me_."

To her surprise, Dyoni stopped scrubbing, all the laughter suddenly draining out of her face, as if Tejana had just said something frightening. Her eyes held an anxious, almost hunted expression. "Don't be foolish, Kat. You shouldn't say that sort of thing. We're just servants, we can't change the way things are. The best thing you can do is to keep your head down and avoid being noticed. Not all the Time Lords are as harmless as Lord Theta. And some of them are even worse than Lady Ushas. Much, much worse."

With that, she turned back to scrubbing the pots at a frantic rate and refused to say any more.

* * *

The door to the Deca common room stood slightly ajar. Koschei pushed it open and entered, looking around to see which of his friends were also present.

The room was slightly shabby, furnished with cast-off odds and ends that no-one else wanted any more, scavenged from other rooms in the Academy. It was tucked away in a forgotten corner of the Endless Library. Magnus had found it one day, dusty and abandoned and, under his leadership, they had appropriated it for their regular meeting place. No-one else ever came here, except for the members of the Deca. There were ten of them, the best and brightest of their year. Each of them brilliant and yet each of them outcast in some way. Each of them always slightly different from their classmates, finding it difficult to fit in, to find a place in the teeming world of the Academy. So they had been drawn together, almost out of necessity, forging a closely-knit alliance, not because they had anything particular in common, but because they were all uncommon, each of them extraordinary in some way. Banding together in a group hadn't made them any more popular with their more conventional classmates, but at least it tended to protect them from victimisation, by sheer dint of numbers. Everyone knew that if you messed with one member of the Deca, you messed with them all. And, given their individual reputations, taking them on as a group was something no-one in their right mind would do.

Some days their common room buzzed with animated conversation, which often turned into debate and from there into heated argument. None of the group were exactly backward in coming forward when it came to stating their point of view. But today, all was quiet.

Rallon and Millennia sat on a couch near the door. They were kissing passionately, their arms intimately entwined around each other. Koschei grimaced in disgust. They never seemed to be doing anything else, these days. He liked sex as much as the next person, but honestly, those two never even seemed to come up for air.

He walked past them without sparing them another glance. Ushas was sitting in one of the comfortable armchairs, her head buried in a book on neuro-chemistry, a surly expression on her face. Not that a surly expression was much of a surprise when it came to Ushas, since that was the look she usually chose to wear. Koschei ignored her as well. He and Ushas maintained a combative relationship most of the time, which could be very amusing, and occasionally even stimulating, but he wasn't in the mood for her dramatics today.

The only other occupant of the room was Drax. He was sitting at the table, carefully constructing an intricate model of a skimmer, one of the sky vehicles that were used for transport inside the Citadel. Knowing Drax, it would be exact down to the last detail, perfect enough to fly exactly like the real thing, only in miniature. He was an expert in tinkering with any kind of technology. Unfortunately for him, he had no aptitude whatsoever for Temporal Theory and was therefore struggling to pass any of his courses. As a child, he'd had an unfortunate tendency to habitually get into trouble, and that hadn't improved as he'd got older. Whenever he tried to carry out a prank, no matter how well-planned and brilliant it was, he always got caught. It was always his experiment that blew up in Borusa's face, or his underwear that ended up the flagpole at the Festival of the Timewright. As a result, whether it was deserved or not, he had managed to make quite a name for himself as the class clown, much to the disapproval of his tutors.

Koschei sat down beside him, marvelling at the dexterity of his friend's fingers as he put the finishing touches on the model. He knew he would never have the skill or the patience to build something like this. However, his own expertise covered all forms of engineering and he quickly noticed that Drax had installed one of the tiny fluid links upside down. He was about to point the error out, but then decided it would be more fun to see what happened when Drax tried to test his creation.

"Have you seen Theta?" he asked instead, wondering where his best friend had got to. He hadn't seen him for hours.

Drax raised his head and was about to answer, when Ushas suddenly cut into the conversation. "He's _probably_ still chasing around after his new little girlfriend."

Koschei raised his eyebrows in surprise. This was the first he had heard about Theta having a girlfriend. As far as he knew, his friend hadn't been seeing anyone since he and Ushas had split up. But something was obviously going on. Ushas's voice was bitter enough to curdle milk.

"What are you talking about?"

Drax started to laugh, but then turned it into a cough as Ushas glared at him.

"I think she's referring to a little incident that happened in the Great Hall a couple of hours ago," he said, his lips still twitching in amusement. "The way _I _heard it, Ushas here took exception to the fact that Theta had rather obviously noticed the arrival of a new maid-servant. So _somehow_, just by coincidence I'm sure, she managed to collide with the girl and knock Borusa's favourite tea-set flying. Which in turn inspired Theta to do his usual knight-in-shining-armour trick - you know what he's like, Kos. Apparently, he went with the girl to see Borusa, to make sure she didn't lose her position over it. And I think we can safely say that Ushas is _not _happy."

"Shut up, Drax!" she said in poisonous tones. "I couldn't care _less _what Theta Sigma does, so there."

Both boys grinned at each other, knowing this was a blatant lie.

"So what did she look like, this maid-servant?" Koschei asked, as Ushas turned huffily back to her book.

"Scrawny little thing," she sniffed disdainfully, without raising her gaze. "Built like a little kid, all carrotty hair and big green eyes." A small malicious smile touched the corners of her mouth. "She won't last long, once Anzor sees her. She'll end up like the other one."

Koschei's eyes narrowed, a thread of worry tugging at him. From her description, the girl did sound the exact type to attract Anzor's attention. _Somebody who couldn't fight back. _And if Theta had gone and got himself involved, it could only lead to trouble.

Abruptly, he got to his feet.

"Where are you going?" Drax asked.

"To find Theta," he answered, heading for the door.

His hand was on the panel that activated the opening mechanism when he felt someone standing close behind him. A shiver ran up his spine. He turned around quickly, but neither Ushas or Drax had moved, and Rallon and Millennia were still trying to find each other's tonsils with their tongues.

"Well, are you going or not?" Ushas snapped waspishly.

_Oh, terrific, _he thought. _First a symphony of drums pounding in my head, now invisible people standing behind me. That's all I need._

"Yeah, I'm going," he said, with one last suspicious glance around the room.

And the door slid shut behind him.


	5. Chapter 5

**_Author's Note: _**

**_Thanks to all my reviewers, as always - TheGreatWhite, gallifrey calls now, MountainLord-92, Theta'sWorstNightmare, Lexy Summers, MayFairy, Weiryn, irishartemis, SawManiac211, EmmaMarie, Daughter of the Master, Lost Moon, Ahsilaa (x 3), JessieDear13 (x 2), yulicee, sailormajinmoon, silentnight, cometbop1, Aietradaea and Neapolitan Dreams. It was so great to see some of my old favourites back, as well as some lovely new reviewers._  
**

**_To Lost Moon: Thanks, always great to hear from you! But you may need to wait a little bit longer to hear from Captain Hart, I'm afraid :(_**

**_To sailormajinmoon: Thanks so much for the review, you are terrific! I should probably have said, Tejana's reaction to Borusa's office was based on my short M-rated fic, 'Once Upon a Dream', just in case people didn't realise. And yes, you are correct, the invisible presence Koschei is sensing is the same as the one that pulled Tejana through the crack ;)_**

**_To silentnight: Hey, great to have you back! I do get pretty busy, but I've actually written the next two chapters, so hopefully my updates will be a bit more prompt for the next little while \O/ I agree, thank goodness Dr Who is back on TV, yayyy! Thanks,I really appreciate the feedback.  
_**

**_To cometbop1: Welcome back on board the 'Ship of Dreams', lovely to have you - and thanks so much for your positive comments!  
_**

**_Anyway, thanks for dropping by and here is the next chapter...oh, and there are some small sexual references in this one, so be warned - you no like, you no read, OK!  
_**

* * *

**- Chapter Five -**

"_I want to love you, but I'd better not touch,_

_I want to hold you, but my senses tell me to stop,_

_I want to kiss you, but I want it too much,_

_I want to taste you, but your lips are venomous poison."_

- _'Poison', Alice Cooper._

* * *

Theta lay on his back on his bed and looked up at the ceiling, his hands tucked under his tousled blonde head as he thought back over the events of the day. His interview with Prefector Zorac, the tutor in charge of detention, had gone much as expected. The man had merely rolled his eyes, sighed loudly and said, "Back again, Theta Sigma?", before reaching for his data tablet to enter Theta's details.

He couldn't help feeling a bit noble about it all. After all, this time he wasn't serving detention because of one of the many pranks he had pulled over the years. The last time he'd been forced to report to Zorac, it had been because he and Koschei had secretly built a pair of time flow analogues, which had successfully jammed every temporal experiment in the Academy buildings. Now _that_ had been one hell of a row. This time, though, he would be suffering through detention because he was saving Kat's job, which made it all seem a lot more worthwhile.

The new servant's delicate oval face swam before his mind. He couldn't explain why he felt so drawn to her, even to himself. The moment he had first seen her, across the crowded Great Hall, it was as if he had known that she was going to be part of his life. He had given up on believing in fate and destiny a long time ago, but still...

And it wasn't because of any sort of physical attraction, either, no matter what Ushas chose to believe. Kat was pretty enough...even lovely, he supposed, although he didn't consider himself to be much of a judge in that department...but he didn't feel even the slightest spark of sexual desire for her. Even the thought of it felt wrong to him. His interest in her stemmed from something else altogether. He just couldn't put his finger on exactly what it was.

She was an enigma. Everything about her was odd. He thought back to the first moment he had seen her, staring out the enormous windows, towards Mount Cadon. That wasn't unusual. Many new servants froze when they first encountered the breathtaking magnificence of the Great Hall. Most of them came from the outlying provincial settlements of Gallifrey and very few of them had ever seen anything like the Great Hall before. But that hadn't been the impression he had received from the look on Kat's face. She'd looked like she was...soaking it in, somehow, basking in it, like a flower turning towards the sun...as if she had always belonged here and had at last returned home.

And her posture was not the common, self-effacing stoop of a servant, despite the dull, black uniform she had been wearing. As small as she was, she held herself like a princess, as proud and confident as any Time Lady in the room.

He supposed he had made his sudden interest a little too obvious, since it had provoked Ushas's jealousy yet again. From that point of view, what had happened had actually been his fault, which had been a good enough reason for him to take the blame. But that wasn't really why. As soon as he had spoken to Kat, he had felt...comfortable...as though he had known her forever, even though they'd just met. Somehow they just fit together, like pieces of a puzzle. He couldn't explain it at all, but he felt fiercely protective of her, every instinct telling him it was his duty to keep her from harm.

As he was tossing it curiously back and forth in his mind, he heard the door to his room suddenly slide open.

"Hello, Kos," he said, without even bothering to look. Koschei had never really concerned himself with common civilities such as knocking before he entered a room. "I suppose Ushas has been in your ear."

Sure enough, his best friend dropped into the chair across the room, crossed his arms and surveyed him quizzically. "If you're talking about this business with the new servant, I have heard about it, yeah. What's going on, Theta?"

Theta sighed and sat up cross-legged on his bed. "Nothing's going on. Ushas was giving her a bad time, I helped her out, that's all."

Koschei gave him a hard, sceptical look. "Are you sure about that?"

"Of course." He usually shared most things with Koschei - they were best friends, after all. But this was a little bit different. He knew if he tried to explain his odd reaction to the new servant girl, Koschei would merely tell him not to be an idiot. Koschei's family was one of the wealthiest and most powerful on Gallifrey. He didn't even acknowledge that servants existed, most of the time, let alone consort with them in any capacity. The idea that Theta had felt such a strange, instant connection to Kat would be a matter of ridicule for him.

"Well, good, because after that whole thing with the time jammers, I can't afford to get into any more trouble this semester," Koschei grumbled. "My father would kill me."

In Theta's honest opinion, Lord Oakdown was a monster on two legs, and nothing Koschei did would ever please him, but he knew better than to say so. All the same, it annoyed him a bit that his friend was making this all about him, as usual. Koschei wasn't involved in this at all. Whatever 'it' was, it was between Theta and Kat.

"What makes you think _you'll_ get into trouble?" he snapped.

"Because I always do. I know what you're like when you're on one of your crusades, you can't help interfering, and I always end up being caught up in it all. When are you going to learn to leave well enough alone? If you really want to help this girl, you'd be better to stay right away from her."

"Why?"

"Because it's only going to lead to trouble, that's why," Koschei responded. "By singling her out, you're drawing attention to her. And we all know what happens when a servant girl attracts Anzor's attention, even if no-one will ever come out and say it."

"That won't happen to Kat," Theta said stubbornly. "I'll make sure it doesn't."

"Won't it? Anzor hates you more than anyone else. If he thinks she's important to you, she becomes an instant target." Koschei climbed to his feet and walked over to the door. "You can't save everyone, Theta. You can't make everyone in the Universe better, no matter how hard you try. Sometimes you only end up making things worse. I just wish you'd get that through your thick head. Now, it's dinner time – are you coming?"

* * *

Tejana's headache was finally receding by the time she sat down to the evening meal in the servant's hall, but she was very tired from scrubbing all the pots. She also suspected she was still slightly in shock from her trip through the crack.

She poked unenthusiastically at the food on her plate. It was a stew made from roasted grockleroot. Since being set free in the Universe with its wide and supremely-varied cuisine, she had forgotten how bland and uninspiring Gallifreyan food was. Oh, it was wholesome enough, and there was plenty of it, but as far as taste went, it was sadly lacking. Unexpectedly, she found herself thinking of the kraken-meat John Hart had served up to her on Mnemosyne, lush and bursting with flavour and as tempting as hell..._especially eaten from the Master's fingers_...

With an abrupt jerk, she pulled her mind away from the sensual memory, trying to distract herself with the conversation going on around her. The man opposite her was droning on in a monotonous tone about the minute biological differences between flutterwings found on the Isle of Meaning compared to those located at the more local Lake Abydos. Just listening to him almost sent Tejana to sleep, and it seemed she wasn't the only one, since everyone else seemed more than pleased to leave the table when the meal was over.

However, as exhausted as she was, her duties for the day still weren't done. She and several of the other maids, including Dyoni, were ordered upstairs to the Academy Refectory, where they were to clear tables under the strict supervision of Fionnula. This consisted of collecting and stacking the dirty plates and placing them in huge transmat cabinets, to be sent down to the sanitiser units below. The room was still packed full of students, eating, talking, laughing, flirting, playing jokes on one another. The servants drifted amongst them like shadows, being as unobtrusive as possible.

Tejana had always loved the Refectory. It was one of her favourite places in the Academy. It was also one of the oldest. No-one really knew exactly how long ago it had been built. Like the Great Hall, it had huge windows, looking out through the crystal dome of the Citadel, across the mountains towards the glacial waters of the River Lethe. Sometimes, on a clear day, you could see as far as the distant blue gleam of the Ocean of Bal Soon. Inside, the Refectory was made of beautiful golden stone. Even the long tables and benches were carved from stone, the seats polished smooth by the backsides of countless students, going further back than anybody could remember. In the early morning, when the twin suns rose in the south, the room would slowly fill with a tide of soft golden light that was almost magical. And in the evening, like now, hundreds of phosper lamps glowed from the high, vaulted ceiling, echoing the star-sprinkled night sky outside the windows.

In one of his rare confidences regarding his youth on Gallifrey, the Doctor had once told her that the Deca had always sat at the table nearest the doors, in case any of them ever had to make a quick exit. Even this far back in his history, he had always been ready to run, Tejana reflected sadly, and he had never really stopped. Sure enough, when she glanced up the room towards the carved wooden doors, there they were – ten of them, all seated together. Making sure she still appeared to be working, she studied them carefully, trying to use her knowledge of the Doctor's past to work out which of them was which.

Theta himself was easy, of course. He was gesturing with his fork in the air, his face alight with laughter, obviously in the middle of telling some tall tale.

On his left sat a young man with soft, dark hair and olive skin. Tejana couldn't really see anything of his face, since he was busy kissing the girl next to him. She was tall and slender with long, straight blue hair. Tejana's eyebrows quirked in surprise. _And Theta thought MY hair was an unusual __colour_, she thought wryly. All the other members of the Deca were completely ignoring the couple's passionate display, as though it happened all the time and was therefore unremarkable. _Rallon and Millennia_. It had to be them. Watching them kissing, so obviously in love, Tejana felt a pang of sadness. Their story was a tragic one and not something the Doctor had ever liked to talk about. From what Tejana had been able to piece together, Rallon of the House of Dvora had been a bit of a trouble-maker – brave, proud, never willing to back down over something he had felt was right. Millennia was his chosen life-mate and they were planning to be married. She was from the House of Brightshore, known for its wealth and power rather than for its intellectual achievements - the same house, in fact, as the nemesis of Tejana's Academy days, Tabor. Millennia had been brilliant, both with computers and as a composer of music, but absent-minded in the extreme, often needing to be reminded to eat or sleep, especially when she was on a creative binge. In the end, the two of them had joined Theta when he stole a TARDIS and travelled to the realm of the Celestial Toymaker. What had meant to be a light-hearted adventure had ended in disaster, with Rallon absorbed as the Toymaker's new host body, and Millennia trapped as one of his living dolls, and Theta had been unable to save either of them. The fifth Doctor had eventually destroyed the Toymaker's realm, centuries later, finally releasing his tortured friends into death.

Tejana forced her eyes to move on. Sometimes foreknowledge of events just wasn't a comfortable thing to have. She recognised the next boy easily enough. It was Jelpax. He was one of the few members of the Deca who had not turned renegade. Instead, he had remained on Gallifrey to become a Co-ordinator of the Matrix. He had lost his life in the Time War, during the battle for the Ramah Phalanx.

The boy beside Jelpax was tall and dark, with saturnine features that were almost satanically handsome. He appeared to be listening to Theta talk, a patronising, perhaps even contemptuous expression on his face. Tejana's fists clenched involuntarily and she almost dropped a plate. This was Magnus, the leader of the Deca - Magnus, who had later become the War Chief. He was ambitious, cunning and filled with an overwhelming lust for power. His clash with the second Doctor had been the direct cause of her father being exiled to Earth for interference in the affairs of the Universe, with Tejana being taken from him and returned in disgrace to Gallifrey. Needless to say, Magnus was hardly her favourite person sitting at the Deca table.

The next person currently didn't rate very highly either. It was Ushas, a haughty expression on her face as she sipped elegantly from her water glass. She was chatting desultorily with someone else Tejana recognised. This was Vansell, who had ended up becoming the Co-ordinator of the Celestial Intervention Agency, a covert arm of the High Council formed to protect the interests of Gallifrey by selectively breaking the policy of non-intervention where required. The Doctor hadn't known it at this point, but Vansell had already been working for the CIA even while a member of the Deca, reporting back to his superiors on the actions of his friends in return for a promise of a secure future within the secret organisation. Loyal to Gallifrey to the end, he had been vaporised during Romana's term as Lady President, by the temporal reactors of a Time Station while on an ill-fated expedition to find and retrieve what he had believed were the remains of Rassilon.

Tejana's didn't know the chubby, ferret-faced boy who sat beside Vansell, but by a process of elimination, she supposed it had to be Mortimus, the Time Lord who had eventually become known as the Meddling Monk. He was an amoral individual, who enjoyed twisting and playing with Time to suit his own ends, no matter who got hurt in the process. He had also clashed with the Doctor several times after leaving Gallifrey, but Tejana had no idea what had ended up happening to him and she didn't particularly care.

Her gaze moved on again and her hearts clenched tight with sorrow as she saw a thin-faced boy busily constructing an intricate tower out of cutlery. _Drax_. Funny, friendly, likeable Drax. A brilliant mechanic, but essentially unambitious, never bothering to plan his life more than a week in advance, and only then if he absolutely had to. All he had ever wanted to do was to travel the Universe and fix things. But he too had died in the Time War, in the battle of the Ramah Phalanx, foolishly trying to defend Tejana's battle-TARDIS from the Horde of Travesties. _I'm sorry, Drax...I'm so, so sorry..._

She stared at their faces, so young and carefree, laughing and talking with their friends, so unaware of what was to happen to them. So many of their stories ending in tragedy and waste and death. It was like reading the roll-call of the damned.

And then there was the tenth member, the one she had been trying not to think about ever since she realised what era she had ended up in. The handsome, dark-haired boy, just as she remembered him in the portrait she had found centuries from now, hanging in the dusty, abandoned Deca common room. Koschei of the House of Oakdown, sitting at Theta's right hand, the two of them always together, always inseparable. Her Koschei. Her _Master_. The father of her child. He had his head down, his navy-blue eyes concentrating on a paper napkin he was methodically shredding on to the table, his movements automatic, as though he was deep in thought.

But as her gaze fell on him, he looked up abruptly and their eyes locked across the room. In that one, long instant, it was forcefully brought home to her that he was no longer a picture in a portrait. He was very, very real. For him, this wasn't some long-gone past to regret and grieve over. This was his here and now. And she had just become part of it. Shaken, she managed to avert her eyes, breaking the connection, knowing that she would give herself away if she wasn't very careful. Every instinct warned her that this young version of the Master was even more dangerous to her than Borusa had been.

"Don't waste your time, girl," a tart voice said in her ear.

Tejana gave a small start and turned around, only to see Fionnula standing there, her hands on her angular hips.

"I beg your pardon?"

"I said, don't waste your time," Fionnula repeated. "I saw you ogling young Lord Koschei. Don't think you're the first. All the new girls do it, because he's so handsome."

Tejana glared at her. "I wasn't _ogling_ anyone!" she said icily.

"Just as well," Fionnula sniffed. "He's the heir of Oakdown, a descendant of one of the Great Houses of Gallifrey. He wouldn't touch a servant with a ten foot pole, especially a lowlife Shabogan like you. Now, get on with your work."

For a few seconds, Tejana struggled with the mad temptation to throw her heavy armload of plates in the woman's face. She too was a descendant of one of the Great Houses of Gallifrey. She didn't have to tolerate being spoken to like this by a...a _nobody_! But somehow, with a supreme effort, she managed to control herself.

"As you wish," she responded curtly, before setting her pile of plates down inside the nearest transmat cabinet with a resounding clack.

Then she turned and, with a defiant look at Fionnula, marched straight past her across the room, heading right for the Deca table.

* * *

"Master!" the Doctor exclaimed in shock, pulling futilely at the plastic hands of the Roman soldiers that held him.

The Master stepped forward further into the torchlight, smiling widely. "Oh, come on now, Doctor, don't sound so surprised. All your other enemies are here. Did you really think I wouldn't be?"

"I don't understand!" the Doctor yelled. "You lot, all working together in an alliance...how is that possible?"

"The cracks in the skin of the Universe," the Master said. "Haven't you noticed them? Dear me, where _do _you keep your head? Buried in the sand?"

"All of re-al-ity is threatened!" the white Dalek barked out.

"All Universes will be deleted!" added the Cyber Leader.

"You see?" the Master smirked, spreading his arms in mock helplessness, as if none of this was down to him.

The Doctor shook his head in bewilderment, still not following what was going on. "What? And you've come to me for help?"

Somehow, going by the gloating expression on the Master's face, he doubted that was the answer. But he honestly couldn't see where else this was all leading.

The other Time Lord's eyes blazed with fury. "No!" he spat. "You've heard the legend of the Pandorica, haven't you? How the good wizard tricks the terrible, nameless creature into the box, to be imprisoned for all eternity? And I know you...you've been waiting here, watching it open, imagining that you're the good wizard in this fairy tale, just like you've been in so many others. But here's the kicker, Doctor, the best joke of all, because you're not. This time _I'm_ the good wizard. Hilarious, isn't it?"

With that, he nodded to the Nestene soldiers, who remorselessly began to drag the Doctor towards the Pandorica and the waiting chair. The Doctor fought with all his strength, scrabbling his feet on the ground, trying to gain some purchase, but it was useless.

"We will save the Universe from you," the Sontaran informed him coldly, as he was forced to sit on the chair and metal clamps were placed around his wrists and ankles. A large yoke came down over his shoulders, holding his head in place.

"From me?"

The Cyber-Leader stepped forward. "All projections correlate. All evidence concurs. The Doctor will destroy the Universe."

"No!" the Doctor shouted. "No, no, no, you've got it all wrong!"

"On the contrary, Doctor, they have it precisely right," the Master sneered. "Because I've made sure of it. Who do you think provided them with Amelia Pond's details, so that they could devise a scenario from her memories? You're so predictable, I knew you wouldn't be able to resist! And the Pandorica itself...built to my specifications, down to the very last detail. The perfect prison for a Time Lord. This time there will be no escape for you."

"Why are you doing this, Master?"

The Master moved closer, lowering his voice to a poisonous hiss. "Why do you _think_? Where is she, Doctor?"

The Doctor blinked incredulously at his old enemy, wondering if the Master had finally lost the last fragile remnant of his sanity. "Who are you talking about?"

"Tejana!" the Master bit out, his brown eyes narrow with anger. "I know she came here to see you. _Tell me where she is!_"

* * *

Koschei sat at the Deca table, allowing the conversation of his friends to flow around him like a river. Theta was enthusiastically explaining the results of his latest experiments with plant/animal hybrids to anybody who would listen, which meant that his audience was currently few and far between, since most of his friends were busy doing something else. Rallon and Millennia were kissing (now _that_ was a surprise); Drax, who could never sit still for two minutes, was constructing a wobbly tower out of knives and forks; Ushas was flirting with Vansell, while pointedly ignoring Theta; and Jelpax was lost in a daydream of his own. Which, aside from Koschei himself, left only Magnus and Mortimus to listen to Theta. And since Magnus regularly disagreed with everything Theta said, as a matter of course, and Mortimus preferred to obsequiously agree with anything _anyone_ said, Koschei soon tired of the conversation and allowed his own mind to wander.

Suddenly he felt a gaze resting on him, as soft and light as a physical caress. Glancing up sharply, he found himself looking across the room at a girl he had never seen before. She was small and delicately-built, dressed in a servant's uniform, with a wealth of fiery hair braided and tightly knotted behind her head. Their eyes caught and held and a charge of electricity seemed to crackle between them.

_So this is Theta's Kat_, he found himself thinking in shock. The description he had been given by Ushas hardly did her justice. Small she might be, but not scrawny, or built like a little kid. Her curves were not opulent, but from what he could see in the tight black dress, they were more than satisfactory. And as for the carrotty hair...well, he had never seen a carrot the colour of pure, dark, molten copper.

As he stared, fascinated, she ducked her head and pulled her eyes away from his with what felt like a physical wrench. Another woman, also dressed as a servant, spoke to her sharply, evidently reprimanding her. Koschei saw her stiffen in anger. She dumped the pile of dirty plates she was holding and then she was weaving determinedly through the crowded room, stalking towards the Deca table. He had never seen any servant move like that before – her small, slender body both graceful and arrogant, her head held up proudly. And, in that moment, Koschei Oakdown realised he had a real problem.

_He wanted her._

It was a problem because he knew he couldn't have her. Firstly, because she was a servant, and servants were less worthy of the attention of the heir of Oakdown than the bugs crawling on the ground. And secondly...secondly, because _Theta had seen her first_. Something cold and hard tightened in his stomach at the thought.

Still avoiding his eyes, she arrived at their table, by-passing several others in the process, and began to efficiently clear away the debris of their recent meal. Koschei felt a twinge of amusement. When it came to being circumspect and self-effacing like the other servants, she had no idea whatsoever. Her entire bearing implied that she was doing _them_ the favour by cleaning up their mess.

As soon as Theta became aware of her, he broke off what he was saying and his face lit up in a happy grin. "Kat! There you are!"

She inclined her head towards him. "Good evening, my Lord."

"Theta," he corrected. "Is everything all right? The dragon lady didn't punish you down in the kitchen, did she?"

She took the plate from in front of him and added it to the pile balanced on her hip. "No, my Lord. Thanks to you, everything's fine now."

Then she turned to take Koschei's plate, but he was too quick for her, reaching it first and handing it to her.

"This is my best friend, Koschei of the House of Oakdown," Theta said, with the air of someone suddenly remembering his manners.

"My Lord Koschei," she responded, her voice carefully subservient, her eyes looking everywhere else except into his. Big green eyes, just as Ushas had said. But what she hadn't said was how they glowed with a warm, emerald fire – a fire he suddenly wanted to see burning just for him.

He didn't respond to her greeting. But as he gave her the plate, he made sure that his fingers intimately grazed hers. He was rewarded by the feeling of her hand twitching against his, as if her double pulse had just involuntarily leapt. Her skin was so soft, ridiculously soft for a servant, as if she had never done any manual labour before in her life. It made him wonder how soft the rest of her was, under that drab, black dress. A tantalising image rose before him of her slender form naked beneath him on a bed; of staring into those big green eyes and watching her face as he slid slowly inside her.

Dimly, he realised Theta was introducing her to the other members of the Deca. They had all stopped what they were doing to stare curiously at her. Even Rallon and Millennia had managed to break apart for long enough to take in what was going on. Drax, who had no pretensions whatsoever, and in Koschei's opinion, not enough common sense to fill a teaspoon, gave her a cheeky, welcoming grin, before going back to constructing his cutlery tower, which was starting to wobble alarmingly by now. Millennia, who probably wasn't quite sure what day of the week it was, managed to say a vague hello. But none of the others said a word, merely pinning Kat with a cold, blank, collective stare. Ushas stifled a spiteful giggle.

A humiliated flush crept up Kat's neck to her pale cheeks. "I'm just a servant, Lord Theta," she murmured softly, her voice a gentle reproach. "You shouldn't acknowledge me in public like this."

Theta scowled, his jaw set obdurately. "I don't care about that sort of thing!"

"Then perhaps you should," she said. Gathering the remaining plates together, she walked away, losing herself in the shouting, laughing crowd of students.

Theta jumped to his feet, his blue eyes unusually bright with anger as he looked around the table. "You know, sometimes you lot make me really _sick_!"

With that, he strode over to the nearby doors and left the room.

"Oooooh," Ushas sneered. "Touchy! What does he expect? She's a _servant_, for Rassilon's sake!"

But Koschei had also had enough for one day. He didn't know exactly how he felt about what had just happened – his ingrained belief that servants should be kept in their place warring with the heated sensations Kat had so inexplicably aroused in him. But he did know he didn't want to listen to Ushas going on about it. "Why don't you do us all a favour and shut the hell up, Ushas?" he snapped, already rising to his feet.

"Go on then, follow him like a little puppy dog, just like you always do!" she called after him, her face ugly with malice. "You're pathetic, Koschei. You'll always be pathetic!"

Koschei just kept walking. At first he couldn't see Theta in the wide, dim passageway outside the Refectory doors. But then, as his eyes adjusted to the lower light, he saw some movement in the shadows against one of the walls. Someone had hauled Theta up against the wall and was holding him by the throat – someone tall and bulky and strong.

"Hello, Theta Sigma," the figure was growling, his face aggressively only inches from Theta's own. "Off for a walk on our own, are we? That's very brave of you."

Theta was coughing and spluttering, desperately trying to fight off the ham-like hand that was crushing his wind-pipe. Koschei had no problem recognising Anzor, the son of the recently inaugurated Lord President Drall. Anzor was a sadist and a bully, who did whatever he felt like, whenever he felt like it, and because of his family connections, nobody ever tried to stop him, even Lord Borusa. Theta and Koschei had first met him when they were eight years old and new to the Academy. He had been much older and bigger, but had only been a few years ahead of them, because he was stupid and found it difficult to pass any of his courses. For some reason, he had taken a violent dislike to Theta and had persecuted him mercilessly, physically tormenting him and regularly forcing him to do his navigational homework for him. He had been bad enough back then, but as the years passed and no-one checked his psychopathic tendencies, he had grown worse and worse, until the sick, twisted individual looking out from behind the little pig-like eyes had no limits to his vileness at all. Ever since the Deca had formed, he had been more wary about coming after Theta. However, now it appeared he had grown tired of waiting.

"He's not on his own!" Koschei said, stepping forward and trying to appear threatening, even though he knew Anzor could probably rip both him and Theta in half without even raising a sweat.

"Back off, Oakdown," Anzor snarled, tightening his grip on Theta's neck even further. "This is none of your concern."

"If it concerns Theta, then it concerns me," Koschei answered flatly. "Let him go."

Anzor laughed in derision. "And who's going to make me? You?"

"And me," another voice spoke up.

Koschei felt Rallon take up a position to his left, his considerable muscles tensed in readiness.

"Count me in," Drax added, suddenly appearing on Koschei's right. He was dancing on his feet and taking playful swipes at the air like a boxer. But his eyes were deadly serious, black with purpose.

Koschei could feel the rest of the Deca moving up behind him, all of them ready to fight, even Ushas. No matter how much they squabbled amongst themselves, a threat to one was a threat to them all. Confident in his back up, a menacing smile spread across his face. "You were saying?" he asked Anzor coldly. "Now, I _said_, let him go!"

Anzor glared at the small army facing him, his tiny eyes flickering back and forth, obviously calculating his odds. But then he unclenched his hand and allowed Theta to collapse gasping to the floor. Even Anzor wasn't stupid enough to challenge the entire Deca at once.

"Think you're a big man, don't you, Theta Sigma, now you've got all your little friends to protect you? Think I can't touch you?" he blustered. "Well, you think wrong. I can _shred_ you, any time I want!"

Whirling around, he stomped furiously off down the hall. Then he paused and turned back, a sly, triumphant expression on his meaty face. "Saw you talking to that pretty little servant girl. She's quite tasty, isn't she? Very tasty, indeed."

Theta sat bolt upright in alarm. "_Leave her alone!_" he rasped.

Anzor smirked, knowing he had hit a nerve. "Maybe I will...and maybe I won't..." he taunted, before disappearing up the passageway.


	6. Chapter 6

_**Author's Note:**_

_**Here we are, just as promised, an extremely quick update. That being so, I'd really like to thank those people who took the trouble to review the last chapter so promptly: MayFairy, TheWritingKat, EmmaMarie, pattibon, sailormajinmoon, gallifrey calls now, TheGreatWhite, Ahsilaa, SawManiac211, irishartemis, Lost Moon, MountainLord-92, Theta'sWorstNightmare and Lexy Summers :) This chapter is for every single one of you wonderful people.**_

_**To sailormajinmoon: I'm so happy to know you've read my other stuff too, that is great! Hopefully you will also enjoy this chapter.  
**_

_**To Lost Moon: I'm very relieved that everyone seems to approve of my interpretation of the Deca, so thanks very much for your review :)  
**_

_**Big thanks to EDZEL2, who put me on to the magnificent music by "Two Steps From Hell" - I wrote this chapter listening to "Undying Love", which is just amazing and brought tears to my eyes.  
**_

_**Also, HAPPY BIRTHDAY to irishartemis! Hopefully this chapter might count as a gift from me to you!  
**_

_**WARNING: A bit of sexual content in this one. You know the drill - you no like, you no read, thank you :)  
**_

* * *

**- Chapter Six -**

_"This is Gallifrey...our childhood...our home..."  
_

_- Murray Gold.  
_

* * *

It was her own fault. She knew that, but it didn't make her feel any better. She should never have allowed her anger at Fionnula to provoke her into approaching the Deca table. If she hadn't been trying to throw the other woman's spite in her face, she would never have done it.

As Tejana prepared for bed, everything in her chest felt tight, all hot and twisted up and tangled. No matter what had gone on in her life in the past, no matter what the discomfort or danger she faced, she had always had her dignity to fall back on, the deep-seated pride in who and what she was. Whenever she had entered a room, wherever it was, she had done so in the complete knowledge that as a Time Lady she would be the equal, if not more often the superior, of every single individual in the room. In all her centuries of life, she had never before had to deal with the complete disdain shown to her by the Deca. It still burned, the memory of the lofty hauteur in their eyes, tinged with dispassionate curiosity, as if she was a worm who had suddenly decided to dance the tango for their entertainment.

_Did I do that? _she wondered. _Is that the way I used to treat the servants when I lived on Gallifrey?_

Looking back, she couldn't remember treating the servants any particular way at all - and perhaps that was even worse, that she had so thoroughly disregarded them, as though they weren't people at all. It was so easy to make the excuse that she had been young and hadn't known any better – but here was her father, just as young, yet already showing seeds of the compassion and empathy that would characterise him all his life.

Tears stung her eyes as she thought of the kindness in his young face, the way he had immediately leapt to champion a mistreated servant girl.

_Oh, Doctor, you've always understood so many things about so many people...why could you never understand your own daughter?_

Quickly, she raised her hand to her face and wiped away the betraying tears, before Dyoni could see them. To her dismay, she had been allocated a bed in a tiny room she had to share with the other girl. It appeared she would be required to be in her company even while they slept. Dyoni seemed nice enough, but it had been a long, trying day and Tejana could have done with some time to herself to try to process what had happened to her. But there wasn't anything she could do to change it, so she just had to put up with it.

On top of that, she had a strong sense that Dyoni was also a bit resentful of her presence in the room, although she was too polite to say so. Tejana couldn't help wondering if perhaps this bed had once belonged to the mysterious Minya. For a few seconds she was tempted to ask, but then she decided she was just too tired. Without speaking, she pulled the pins out of her hair and changed into the long nightgown Fionnula had provided as part of her clothing allowance. It was one thing to sleep naked in her room in the TARDIS, but it was another to do it when she was sharing a room with a virtual stranger. The thin cotton nightgown reminded her of the one she had once worn as a prisoner on board the _Valiant_. She could remember the Master summoning her in the middle of the night and having to stand before him in the revealing garment, the way his eyes had roved so explicitly over her body...

Sudden loneliness pierced her. If she was to admit the truth, it wasn't just the way the Deca had treated her that had unsettled her. It was also her physical reaction to the young Master. When he had accidently touched her hand, she'd wanted to pull him close and run her fingers through his thick dark hair and kiss his lips. It had brought home to her just how much she was missing his older self.

Making sure Dyoni wasn't watching, she drew her laser screwdriver out of the pocket of her leather jacket, which was folded neatly at the end of her bed. Curling herself under the covers, she slipped it under her small, hard pillow, leaving her hand wrapped comfortingly around it. It was stupid, she knew, but somehow holding on to the Master's gift made her feel closer to him.

Drowsily, she allowed her eyes to fall shut and for a few hours, she knew no more, exhaustion dragging her deep into the realms of sleep. But then something disturbed her, almost as if she heard someone calling her by name. Slowly, she opened her eyes and saw him, standing at the end of her bed.

_Her Master_.

Not the boy she had seen today, but the man that he would become. The man that would be the centre of her life and her soul. The man that would father her child.

"Koschei?" she queried shakily.

"Ana," he answered, his voice rough and full of need.

"But how...? This is a dream, isn't it?" she asked, sudden grief pulling at her. "You're not really here."

He stepped forward, as lean and dangerous-looking as a jungle cat, and she felt the bed shift under his weight as he sat down beside her. "Ssssshhhhh," he commanded, leaning over her and trailing his fingers down her cheek. "I promised I'd never leave you."

She closed her eyes, luxuriating in his touch, not caring if it was a dream. For now he was here and he was hers. Tomorrow could look after itself.

"I'm sorry I went off without telling you again," she murmured. "I just needed to see the Doctor. I wanted to ask him if he would marry us..."

His mouth came down on hers, cutting her off mid-sentence. The kiss was soft and persuasive at first, but as she relaxed against him, it became more demanding and intense. The touch of his tongue against hers, possessively invading her mouth, literally made her toes curl and she forgot how to breathe.

"It doesn't matter," he growled against her lips. "There's nothing the Doctor can do that will make you belong to me any more than you do right now, Ana. Just like there's nothing he can do to take you away from me. Nobody will ever do that."

She held him closer, coiling her arms around his neck and passionately returning his kiss, threading her fingers through his hair as she angled her mouth beneath his. He groaned deep in his throat and she felt his body shift, until he was fully on top of her, pressing her into the thin mattress. Heat surrounded her, streaking through her, sinking deep into her flesh. And then, that sweet, savage, familiar surge of sexual electricity between them, sweeping everything else in the universe aside and rendering it unimportant. Desire exploded deep inside Tejana, liquid and smouldering, as his hands ran down over her slender figure, deliberately arousing both of them. His lips trailed fire down the soft vulnerable skin of her throat and she tipped her head back, gasping in mindless pleasure. "Please...oh, please."

"I love it when you beg me, Ana," he rasped, his whiskey-coloured eyes dark with a mixture of lust and male triumph as he looked down into her face. "I love it when you burn for me and only me."

She could feel the hot hunger prowling inside him. It was alive, a tangible force that reached out for her, and every part of her ached to satisfy it, to sate him in every way.

"I know," she whispered fiercely, arching provocatively against him, her voice husky with challenge. "_Master!_"

He shuddered in response. In one quick, powerful movement, his fingers laced through hers and he slammed her arms above her head, trapping them against the bed. She knew there was something she should remember about that, something important about his hands restraining hers, but at that moment she didn't care. All she cared about was how much she loved him and wanted him.

"How much will you give me, Ana?" he hissed passionately into her ear. "How high can I take you before you shatter in my arms?"

Her hips moved in their own rhythm, pushing against the hardness of his body, wanting him to take everything she had. She was totally lost in the magic of what he was doing to her, her entire sense of self vanishing as the sweet, hot pressure began to build inside her.

"Mine," he muttered harshly, his breathing ragged as one hand moved to tug at the hem of her nightdress, pushing it up her thighs. "Always and forever."

She trembled beneath him as he touched her, shuddering in pleasure, crying out her need...

"Kat! KAT!" The voice was sharp and strident. It didn't belong in their shared world of light and heat, calling her back to a place she didn't want to be. She did her best to ignore it, desperately wanting whoever it was to go away and leave her alone with the Master. But something was shaking her by the shoulder and wouldn't let go.

"Go away!" she snarled. But it was too late. The dream had vanished like morning mist in the sunlight, snatching the Master away with it.

"Are you all right?" Dyoni persisted. Slowly, Tejana opened her eyes. The maid was standing beside the bed, an ethereal figure in her white nightdress, her pale hair a soft blur in the low light from the lamp. "You were calling out in your sleep."

For a few seconds, the desolate sense of loss nearly swamped Tejana and all she wanted to do was to scream and punch and kick. But somehow she managed to gather her last few shreds of self-control. "I'm fine," she said hoarsely. "It was...just a dream."

Dyoni looked at her uncertainly, as if she was disturbed at something in Tejana's tone. "Well...it can't have been a very good one then, for you to cry out like that. It's lucky I woke you."

"Yeah," Tejana agreed in a dull, aching voice. "Lucky. Really, really lucky."

With that, she turned over and faced the wall. Behind her, Dyoni re-dimmed the light and climbed back into her own bed. Long ago on Gallifrey, Tejana had taught herself how to cry silently, so that no-one ever knew. As the bitter sobs wracked her small frame that night, she clutched the laser screwdriver to her hearts and relearned the skill all over again.

* * *

Lord President Drall shifted uncomfortably on his chair. A stoop-shouldered man with thinning brown hair, he had only been President for a matter of months and was still settling into the job. He looked at the serious faces of the two men facing him and both his hearts sank. He could really do without a crisis this early in his term of office.

"Chancellor Umbast...Castellan Rannex..." he greeted them. "Tell me, what can be so urgent that it requires an emergency meeting such as this?"

"Good evening, Your Supremacy," Umbast inclined his head. "Forgive us for disturbing you at this late hour, but we felt you should be informed." He paused and slanted an uncertain look at the Castellan, before continuing, "It seems the APC Net has detected some alarming distortions in the timelines."

"Distortions? What sort of distortions?" Drall demanded, not liking the look on the other man's face.

"We're not quite sure," Rannex said cautiously. "It's almost as if time is unravelling in places, as if the skin of the Universe is...cracking."

The President frowned. "And what is causing these cracks?"

"From what we can tell, a temporal explosion of some sort, far into the future. The effects are reaching all the way back through time."

"A-ha!" Drall exclaimed in relief. "That's simple then. We'll just get the CIA to send someone forward in time to sort it out. I can authorise it with the presidential codes and no-one else need ever be any the wiser."

Umbast shook his head unhappily. "I'm sorry, Sir, but we can't do that. We're blocked."

"Blocked?" Drall was starting to feel like an idiot, repeating everything they were saying like some sort of damned parrot. "Blocked _how_?"

"We're unable to send any Gallifreyan agents past a certain point in time. It's like someone has drawn a line across history that we can't cross. The APC-Net indicates that at some stage in the future, we've been time-locked."

"That's preposterous!" the President spluttered. "Absolutely impossible! If there's any time-locking to be done, _we're_ the ones who do it! Who would _dare_ to time-lock Gallifrey herself?"

The Castellan cleared his throat uncomfortably. "That's not all, Sir. There's something else."

Drall rubbed fretfully at his temples. This was beyond annoying. And to think that the most exciting thing he'd had planned for his day was admiring himself in his mirror wearing the Sash of Rassilon!

"_What?_"

"The Fourth Law of Time has been breached. Someone from the same time period as the temporal explosion has travelled backwards into Gallifrey's past. Whoever it is, the APC-Net indicates that they're here on the planet somewhere, right now."

Drall's head snapped up in shock. "A Time Lord? Disregarding the Protocols of Linearity?"

"It appears so," Rannex confirmed.

"Then _find _them!"

"We've been trying to, Sir," Umbast said with an apologetic shrug. "But whoever it is, we can find no evidence of them in any time-line, not even the slightest record – past, present or future. Basically, they don't exist. It makes it very difficult for the Matrix to trace them."

"A Time Lord that doesn't exist, travelling backwards through time," Drall groaned. "Am I the only one here who realises that doesn't actually make _sense_?"

"We have no idea of the agenda of this unknown person. We can only assume that it has something to do with the temporal explosion. Perhaps they were responsible for it, who knows?" Rannex continued stiffly. "The only definite data we have is that they materialised somewhere within the Prydonian Academy within the last few days."

"The Prydonian Academy?" Drall exclaimed, his anxiety levels increasing exponentially. His son Anzor, the apple of his eye, was a student at the Prydonian Academy. What if he was in danger from this unknown threat? There was no doubt that decisive action had to be taken. "This person is a threat to the security of Gallifrey. He or she must be found, as soon as possible. You will see to it, Castellan, whatever it takes."

"And when we find them, Lord President? What then?"

Drall fixed his two underlings with a steely, grey gaze. "The Protocols of Linearity are very clear on this matter. No breach of the Fourth Law of Time will be tolerated, under any circumstances. Any Time Lord found guilty of such a breach will be executed immediately, without trial."

* * *

The next morning, Tejana felt heavy-eyed and lethargic, as if she'd had no sleep at all. To her relief, she and Dyoni were not assigned to breakfast duty, so she didn't have to face the possibility of seeing any of the Deca. Instead, they were given the duty of making up the rooms in the senior accommodation wing, a job which appeared easy enough on the surface. But towards the end of the morning, after tidying what seemed like hundreds of rooms, Tejana's back was aching like it had never ached before. When children were first admitted to the Academy, they slept in large dormitories, supervised by house-mothers. When they became seniors, however, each student was allocated a private room with an attached bathroom. And no matter how technologically advanced Gallifreyan society was, someone still had to do the cleaning. It was much too far beneath the young Time Lords and Ladies of the Academy to do their own dirty work. That was left for the servants to do. Tejana had lost count of how many rooms she had attended to already that day – making beds, picking up dirty clothes off the floor and sending them down a chute to be dealt with by the laundry maids, straightening books and papers, dusting the furniture...

From what she could see, most of the students were what on Earth would be called filthy slobs. Occasionally she and Dyoni came across a pristinely tidy room, but for the most part they looked like a violent hurricane had recently blown through them. At first it made her feel murderously annoyed until, with a strong sense of guilt, she remembered racing off to meet Damon for breakfast at the Refectory during her time at the Academy, leaving her room in absolute disarray behind her. It had always been immaculate when she returned, just like magic, and she had never given a single thought as to how it got that way.

_Some magic! _she thought now, stretching painfully and rubbing crossly at her lower back. The unconventional lifestyle she usually led meant that she was a long way from being unfit, but she was still unaccustomed to this level of prolonged physical labour. It just wasn't something Time Lords usually did.

Dyoni smiled at her in amusement, her hands busy fluffing out a pillow, before replacing it on the neatly made bed. She seemed to have hardly even raised a sweat, which only served to make Tejana even more grumpy.

"It's not funny!" she groaned. "I think I'm dying."

"We're nearly finished," Dyoni replied, bustling around to attend to the pillows on the other side of the bed. "There's only around twenty more rooms to do."

"Twenty!" Tejana exclaimed in horror. "Is that supposed to be comforting? What do they think we are? A bunch of Ood?"

The other girl looked over at her curiously. "What are Ood?"

Tejana was more than used to answering similar questions from her human companions, so she didn't even think twice about replying. "A telepathic race, enslaved by humans throughout the Universe to do all their menial work," she said, bending down again to pick up some more rubbish from the floor. "They look like little bald men, but with tentacles instead of a nose and mouth. They live to serve, that's all they do. Except, of course, when they go all 'red-eye' and kill everything in sight instead. After this, I think I can understand why they do it!"

Dyoni laughed. "Oh, Kat, you're such a wonderful storyteller. You Shabogans have such imaginations!"

"But it's not..." Tejana began, only to catch herself as she suddenly realised what she was saying. Kat the Shabogan maid-servant would have no knowledge of the Ood or of any of the other countless races that populated the Universe. On Gallifrey, only a Time Lord would have access to that sort of information, and then usually only in an academic sense, since most Time Lords never left their home planet. "Er...yes...imagination. That's me, all right, very imaginative. People are always saying that. You'd be surprised at the stuff I come up with."

"Just don't let Fionnula hear you spinning any of your tales," Dyoni warned. "She'd think it was frivolous and a waste of time."

Together they moved towards the door, leaving the room spick and span behind them, at least until its occupant returned and messed it all up again. The repetitive futility of their task grated on Tejana. No matter how well they did their job today, they would be back here doing it all over again tomorrow. She couldn't imagine doing it over and over again, ad infinitum, with nothing else to look forward to, ever, except for more of the same. That level of concentrated tedium was completely beyond her understanding. It was so different to her wild and free existence travelling the stars.

"Don't you ever want to do something different with your life, Dyoni?" she blurted out, struggling to work out how the girl could possibly bear it. "Surely you don't want to do this forever?"

Dyoni's pale blue eyes met hers in puzzlement. "Like what?" she asked. "There aren't exactly a lot of options available for unmarried females of our class, are there? We can either go into service or become a 'Lady of the Night'. And I don't know about you, but I have no intention of bartering my affections to the highest bidder."

"No, but you could..." Tejana started. "I mean, there's always..." But the more she thought about it, the more she realised that there was nothing she could suggest. She herself had found it difficult enough to break free from the suffocating bonds of Gallifreyan society, and she had been a Time Lady, a descendant of one of the Great Houses. What hope did a maidservant like Dyoni have?

"Isn't there anyone you want to marry?" she finished weakly, not sure what else to say.

Dyoni blushed. "Not yet. There's been a few boys, but no-one special. How about you?"

A pang of grief unexpectedly hit Tejana right between the hearts as she remembered the passion she had shared with the Master in her previous night's dream. _Oh, Koschei, do you even remember my name?_

"Yeah, there's someone," she said aloud, settling for a version of the truth. "I was hoping we could be married, but there's been a few...obstacles."

"Where is he now?"

"Far away." _So very, very far..._

Her voice must have revealed something of her pain, because Dyoni's eyes softened in sympathy. "Do you miss him?"

"More than I could ever tell you," Tejana replied. She knew she had to stop talking about this right now, or she was going to burst into tears again. So instead, she tried to change the subject. "Listen, I think I've got this room cleaning thing pretty much figured out by now. So how about we split up and do separate rooms? We should get through them a bit quicker that way."

The abrupt change in Dyoni's expression was almost startling. The hunted look was back in her eyes, like a small animal expecting to be attacked any minute. "No! We stay together."

"But, I just thought..."

"No more argument, Kat," the other girl said fiercely. "The maids clean the rooms in pairs. That's the rule, ever since..."

She broke off and walked up the corridor to the door of the next room. Even from behind, Tejana could tell her shoulders were tight with tension.

"Ever since what?" she asked curiously.

But Dyoni just shook her head. "Never mind. That's just the way it's done, all right?"

Tejana rolled her eyes at the ambiguous answer. She was getting a bit sick of Dyoni's evasiveness. "Fine. I was just trying to help."

The other maid didn't answer. She merely slid open the door of the next room instead. Tejana sighed in irritation and followed her in. The other maid seemed like a really nice person, when she wasn't being all cryptic and strange. But at least she been distracted from the subject of Tejana's love life, which was an enormous relief.

The next room was one of the rare few that was already immaculately tidy. Apart from cleaning the bathroom, which they did together, and making the bed, which Dyoni took care of, there was very little to do. Tejana flicked her duster around unenthusiastically, until a spectacular model hanging from the ceiling in the corner caught her eye. She moved closer, entranced. It was a perfect holographic representation of the Constellation of Kasterborous, with the twin suns glowing at the centre and the Seven Systems gloriously spread out around them. Tejana easily picked out the rust-coloured image of Gallifrey, patterned with brown lakes and grey clouds, orbited by her two moons, the small copper-coloured Pazithi Gallifreya, which was bright enough to be visible even in the daylight, and the larger heliotrope moon of Selenista Gallifreya, which illuminated the nights. The other five planets in the system were also accurately represented, including the planets of Karn and Polarfrey and the asteroid of Kasterborous the Fibster. Tejana could hardly remember when she'd seen anything so magnificent.

"Oh, gods," she gasped. "It's so _beautiful_."

"Good, isn't it?" a voice said from the doorway. Whirling around, she saw Koschei standing there, his navy-blue eyes fixed steadily on her. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Dyoni sink into a deep curtsey. Reminded of who she was supposed to be, she did the same, thinking wryly to herself how much the older Master would enjoy this display of subservience from her.

He didn't even glance at Dyoni, but kept his attention fixed on Tejana as he walked into the room. "My friend Drax made it for me. It was an Otherstide gift."

With him in it, the room suddenly seemed a lot smaller. Against her will, Tejana felt her pulses start to race and her stomach begin to do flip-flops. Immediately, she felt angry with herself. This might be Koschei, but he was not _her _Koschei, she told herself firmly. Not yet. They were effectively two different people. At this point in time, he was centuries younger than her, not much more than a boy, and she had no right to be attracted to him, no matter how good-looking he was.

"It's amazing, my Lord," she said in a low voice, refusing to meet his eyes. "Your friend must be very talented."

"Oh, he is," Koschei replied. "Very talented."

Tejana swallowed hard. It appeared the younger version of the Master already had the ability to say so much more with his tone of voice than his actual words implied. It was like velvet, warm and sensual, sending shivers along her skin like a physical touch. Even without the psychic link, she knew him far too well to doubt what he was thinking. All at once, she was very aware of the bed behind her and she was incredibly glad of Dyoni's presence. It was lucky they had not split up to clean the rooms after all. She wasn't at all sure how she would deal with being on her own with him, especially as she was missing his older self so much.

"Forgive us, Lord Koschei," Dyoni spoke up, moving around to stand beside Tejana like a protective mother hen. "We've finished now. We were just leaving."

He paused for a moment, but then nodded, before stepping aside and leaving the doorway clear. "Of course. Don't let me interrupt you."

"Thank you, Milord." Dyoni bobbed another curtsey and ushered her companion past him into the hall.

Tejana could feel his eyes on her back all the way to the door. Deep inside, a very insistent part of her wanted to ditch Dyoni and stay with him, aching to find out whether the heat and excitement between them would be the same, even this far back in time. But she squashed it ruthlessly, refusing to surrender to the temptation.

The door slid shut and the two girls hurried together along the corridor. Dyoni slanted Tejana a suspicious glance. "That was very strange," she said. "Lord Koschei is almost never in his rooms at this time of day."

"Perhaps he was looking for something," Tejana suggested.

"Yes," Dyoni agreed, staring at her meaningfully. "Perhaps he was."

* * *

Koschei sank down on his bed, a scowl written across his handsome face. He'd been hoping that what had happened in the Refectory had all been some weird kind of anomaly, just some sort of odd, passing glitch in his brain. Lying alone in his bed during the dark reaches of the night, he'd almost managed to convince himself that he'd imagined his reaction to Kat. She was just a servant. He was the heir of Oakdown. If he wanted sex, he would find with someone of his own class. He was good-looking, intelligent and charming enough when he wanted to be. There were Time Ladies aplenty who were more than pleased to accommodate him, any time he wished. So why would he ever want a lowly servant?

So he had purposely set out to cross her path, to prove his point to himself. This time, he told himself, when he saw her, he would feel nothing. But then he had stood in the doorway of his room, watching her look up at the model in the corner, and he understood how wrong he had been. If anything, the lust he felt for her this morning was even stronger than it had been last night.

It was a strange, intense feeling. It was almost as if he wasn't _anticipating_ what it felt like to kiss the long, vulnerable line of her throat, to taste the sweetness of her lips, to feel the softness of her small, delicate body writhing beneath him, to hear her calling his name, begging for more and more and more – it was like he was _remembering_ it, in exquisite detail, as if he'd done it all before...

He was so caught up in the confusion of his thoughts, he didn't even notice a shadow crossing the wall behind him.

* * *

"What do _you_ want with Tejana?" the Doctor demanded, surreptitiously pulling at his wrist restraints and trying to loosen them. According to River, Tejana was _his _daughter. Why in the Universe would the Master have any interest in her movements, when he already had the Doctor trapped and right where he wanted him? This whole situation was becoming more and more surreal with every second that passed.

The Master gave a short, sharp laugh. "Don't try to mess with me, Doctor. I'm warning you..."

But then he broke off and took an incredulous look at the Doctor's confused and angry face. "But you're not, are you? You honestly have no idea what I'm talking about."

"Well, congratulations, maybe you're not quite as stupid as I thought," the Doctor shot back. "Because guess what? I honestly have no idea what you're talking about."

"She came here to tell you she's carrying my child!" the Master hissed. "My son! Are you telling me you don't remember _that_?"

The Doctor shook his head blankly, shock slicing through him like a sword-blade. _His_ daughter, pregnant with the Master's child? It had to be a lie, the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard. What kind of a father would he have been to let that happen? The answer was excruciatingly obvious: a very bad one! And yet, somewhere in the back of his mind, it felt as if the Master had triggered a siren, as if a distant part of his brain was shouting at him that this was true and he had to remember...remember..._remember._..

"Wait a minute..." the Master growled, leaning over him and looking even closer, suddenly seeing the truth in his enemy's eyes. "You don't even remember_ her_, do you? At all! She's completely gone from your mind - your own daughter! But what...?" Then he took a step backward, out through the door of the Pandorica, his face lighting with understanding. "Ohhhh...oh yes, of course, now I get it."

"Well, I'm glad you do, because I don't!" the Doctor snapped.

The Master turned away, running his hands through his white-blonde hair. "The cracks, he's using the _cracks_!" Then he spun back to face the Doctor, his face tight with barely-controlled rage. "Oh, he's clever, I'll give him that! He thinks he can keep her from me by using the Time-fire."

"He?" the Doctor repeated. "Who are you talking about?"

The white Dalek glided forward, as if it was tired of the irrelevant conversation between the two Time Lords. "The cracks in Time are the work of the Doc-tor. It has been con-firmed."

"No!" the Doctor shouted. "Wait...listen to me!"

"The Pandorica was constructed to ensure the safety of the Alliance," the Cyber-leader intoned. "You will be prevented."

"It's not me. It's the TARDIS. And I'm not _in_ the TARDIS, am I?'

The Dalek rotated its eye-stalk back and forth, as if it was denying what he was saying. "On-ly the Time Lords can pi-lot the TARDIS."

As it spoke, there was another series of metallic sounds inside the Pandorica. Apprehensively, alert for further danger, the Doctor watched as another panel opposite him slid away. From a hidden compartment inside, another padded chair emerged, complete with wrist and ankle restraints. Another shoulder-yoke dropped from the ceiling.

"What...?" the Master began in a shocked voice, only to feel the two fake Roman soldiers gripping his arms in an unbreakable grasp. "What the hell are you doing?"

"On-ly the Time Lords can pi-lot the TARDIS," the Dalek said again, its voice implacable. "All Time Lords will be prevented."

The Master was fighting in earnest now, kicking and struggling just as the Doctor had done before him, with exactly the same lack of success. Bit by bit, the Autons dragged him towards the Pandorica and thrust him into the second chair. "No! I'm on your side! I _helped_ you!" he howled, as the restraints were locked into place around him. "LET ME OUT!"

"You designed the perfect prison for a Time Lord," the Sontaran said. "A perfect prison for yourself."

The two Autons stepped back, leaving both Time Lords securely trapped within the Pandorica.

"Wait!" the Doctor begged. "You have to listen to me. The TARDIS is exploding right now and the two of us are the only ones who can stop it!"

He could see them all, peering in at them, Daleks, Cybermen, Sontarans, Autons and countless others, all crowding around to gloat at his final end.

"Seal the Pandorica!" the Cyber-leader ordered.

"NO!" the Master screamed. "You can't leave me in here with _him_! I am the Master! You will obey me!"

But none of the creatures moved. Slowly, inexorably, with a deep, grinding noise, the doors began to slide closed.

"Total event collapse!" the Doctor shouted in panic, still trying desperately to get through to them, even though he knew it was impossible. "Every sun will supernova at every moment in history. The whole Universe will never have existed! _Listen to me!_"

And then the doors of the Pandorica slammed shut.


	7. Chapter 7

**_Author's Note: _**

**_Hello, my name is Brownbug, and I am addicted to writing the "One Moment in Time" series. I tend to feel a bit at a loss if I don't have a story simmering away in the back of my mind. Which is why I have started writing this one, even though the series is already so long. But I have a feeling that this may well be the last one, so I want to thank the people who have been following and commenting, I appreciate it more than I can say - MayFairy, Weiryn, gallifrey calls now, MountainLord-92, TheWritingKat, Imorgen (x 3), SawManiac211, Ahsilaa, TheGreatWhite, EmmaMarie, irishartemis, Lexy Summers, Daughter of the Master, sailormajinmoon, Lost Moon, JessieDear13 (x 2), Theta'sWorstNightmare and CharcoalFaith._  
**

**_To sailormajinmoon: Thanks again, I'm really happy you've liked all of them, that's terrific. The net will slowly be closing in around Tejana in the next few chapters, as you will see. And no, you are, right, the Master isn't a happy camper right now ;)  
_**

**_To Lost Moon: Aw, that's such a nice thing to say - it's nice to be the queen of anything, so I'd be more than happy to be the Queen of Master/OC, thankyou!_**

**_Okay, lovely folks, here is the next chapter..._**

* * *

**- Chapter Seven - **

"_But know this, Time Lord...you are not alone..."_

_- The Face of Boe, Gridlock_

* * *

To Tejana's immense surprise, once she and Dyoni had finished making up their allocation of rooms, she was given the rest of the afternoon off, up until it would be time to serve the evening meal. Dyoni had laughed at the look on her face.

"Of course we get time off," she said. "We're not slaves, you know."

"Could've fooled me," Tejana grumbled, thinking of all her various aches and pains.

"Go and get some fresh air. It will make you feel better."

_Fresh air? Inside the Great Dome? _Tejana wanted to retort. _Like that was ever going to happen._

But she bit her tongue and escaped out into the Academy gardens before any one else could think of something for her to do. She wasn't absolutely sure servants were permitted to openly walk within the main gardens, but since there didn't seem to be anyone around to forbid her, she didn't let it bother her. It was a gorgeous day. From the angle of the twin suns, Tejana guessed the season was late summer. She could hear birds singing in the tall maldor trees and smell the perfume of the arkytior flowers. The freshly-mown red grass was short and springy beneath her feet. She closed her eyes and drew all the poignant sensations deeply inside her, relishing them as they danced across her skin and sparkled through her blood like champagne bubbles; that singular, overwhelming feeling of being_ home _at last. She couldn't help marvelling at the familiarity of it all, as if she had been here only yesterday instead of centuries ago. The conflicting feelings her home world had always roused in her had never gone away, they had only been buried, because after the devastation of the Time War, she could never bear to look at them again.

On days like today, she remembered, you could almost forget the artificial, rarefied environment in which the Time Lords lived, forget about the enormous crystalline Dome stretching overhead, enclosing the Citadel within an impenetrable protective barrier. As Tejana knew from her own bitter experience, it was on days like today that you could make believe you were free.

She tilted her head back and looked up into the stunning burnt-orange sky. She couldn't see the Dome, but every single part of her knew it was there, shutting her in all over again. Once, those transparent perimeters had been her only horizon. Now her horizons stretched to the very ends of the Universe. Or had done. The last thing she had ever expected was to end up trapped on Gallifrey again.

_Cracks in time and space. _The more she thought about it, the more it worried her, not just for her own sake, which was bad enough. No, it was bigger than that, much bigger. Over and over in her head, she listed the cracks she had seen, hoping to find some sort of pattern, hoping to find it all made _sense_. The crack that had swallowed the megalosaurus back at the Naismith mansion; the crack that had almost swallowed Jack in the kitchen of the Hub; the enormous crack on the Isle of Avalon which she had closed using the White Point Star. She had assumed all of those were directly related to Rassilon punching holes in reality using his temporal manipulator. But what if they weren't? What if something else was causing the fabric of time and space to break down? Something even bigger, if that was even possible...? Certainly the crack she had fallen into at Stonehenge had nothing to do with Rassilon, as far as she knew. And hadn't the Doctor mentioned something about there being a crack in Amy's bedroom wall as a child? Tejana wrinkled her forehead, trying to remember. It hadn't seemed all that important at the time, so she hadn't really paid all that much attention. But she was sure he had said something about closing it with his sonic screwdriver.

But if the cracks had been emanating from something other than Rassilon's temporal manipulator, what the hell was it? What could possibly be powerful enough to break all the Laws of Time and fling her all the way back into Gallifrey's past? No, wait a minute...not just Gallifrey's past...the _Doctor's_ past. Somehow, this all kept coming back to her father. And the last time she had seen his current incarnation, the Pandorica had been opening. A mysterious, legendary box, opening at his touch. As if it knew him. As if it had been _waiting_ for him.

A cold shiver ran up Tejana's spine. What had been inside that thing? A goblin? A trickster? A warrior, soaked in the blood of a billion galaxies, just like the ancient legends had said? Something terrible enough to break down the barriers of time and space. At the thought, a gut-wrenching fear began to gnaw away inside her – a fear that this time her father had bitten off even more than he could chew. Somehow she had to get out of here. Somehow she had to get back to Stonehenge.

But she couldn't do it alone. And in this time and place, there was only one other person who could help her.

* * *

"Lord Theta?"

The blonde boy whirled around, his expression one of surprise. "Kat! You startled me. Usually no-one ever comes here but me. How did you know I'd be here?"

"I didn't," she lied. He was sitting cross-legged on a smooth round rock in the middle of a small, walled contemplative garden. The air was heavy with the evocative, intoxicating scent of schlenk blossom. Smooth white sand stretched around the central rock, carefully raked into mysterious whirls and swirls, a pattern that was both limited and yet infinite at the same time. Tejana knew that if you stared at the intricate grooves for long enough, you could begin to sense the ebb and flow of the Time Vortex, surging through your blood.

When she had arrived, Theta had been sitting with his eyes closed, his face a picture of calm serenity. In actual fact, she had taken a calculated risk to find him. Praying no-one would notice, she had used all her skill to crack open the psychic link, just the tiniest little bit, and had used it to home in on his location. Now that she was here, she found she could recall her father mentioning how he'd liked to slip away from all the others, even Koschei, to sit in this quiet spot, just to be alone, just to think. She didn't like invading his privacy – it made her very uncomfortable. But this was kind of an emergency.

"I like to come here too," she faltered. "It's so...peaceful. But I can go away, if you'd rather?"

"No, of course not," he said generously, just as she had known he would. "I wasn't doing anything important anyway. Just thinking about stuff. Come and sit beside me."

She did as he asked. Careful not to disturb the rippling sand, she made her way over to him and perched herself next to him on the large rock. He slanted a rueful glance at her pale face.

"You look like you didn't get any sleep at all last night," he commented. "Are you all right?"

She smiled at him, wondering why it was so much easier to accept concern from this version of the Doctor than it was from his older self. Maybe it was because Theta treated her like an equal instead of like a child. Or maybe because he didn't expect or require anything from her. "I'm fine, thank you."

"I'm so sorry...about how my friends treated you. You were right, it was my fault. I should never have..."

"It doesn't matter, really, I promise," she said quickly. "It's not that. I've...just got some other things going on."

He nodded sympathetically. "Is that why you came here? To think things through?"

"In a way."

"Is it anything I can help with?"

She took a deep breath and raised her eyes to his. She hated lying to him, but she had to couch this properly, or she would ruin everything. A Shabogan maidservant wouldn't know anything about the space-time continuum. Too much detail and she would give herself away.

"Have you ever seen any...cracks...inside the Citadel?"

A frown crossed his face. "Cracks? In the walls, you mean?"

"Not...ordinary cracks," she said hesitantly. All at once, a feeling of apprehension shivered across her skin. She looked over her shoulder, but there was no-one standing there. Or at least no-one that she could see. "Cracks that glow with white fire," she finished in a hoarse voice, wrapping her arms defensively around herself, as if she was cold.

All the gentleness vanished from Theta's face. His eyes sharpened and his hand flew out to grip her arm urgently. "Why are you asking me this, Kat? Have _you_ seen something like that?"

She gave him a slow, uncertain nod, trying to ignore the creeping sensations enough to keep her facade of ignorance believable. "Yes. It scared me. But I didn't know who to tell, so I thought that maybe you..."

"You did the right thing!" he exclaimed, his face alight with excitement. "Where exactly did you see it?"

"In the servant's corridors near the kitchen," she replied, bringing to mind the dark, stone passageway where she had first materialised.

"What did it look like?"

"It was just hanging in the air. It was shaped like a horrible smile. And white light was streaming from it."

Theta jumped to his feet and began pacing about. In that moment, he reminded Tejana so much of his future self, she could almost see a vision of Eleven superimposed over his figure. "Time-fire! It must have been! You're lucky you didn't get too near it, Kat. They say Time-fire can wipe a person out of reality, so that they never existed at all. No-one would have remembered you'd ever been alive. You'd just be...gone!"

Tejana widened her eyes, doing her best to look shocked at this information, even though something in the back of her head was screaming that she had been there, done that and got the T-Shirt. "So...you've never come across anything like that on Gallifrey before?" she probed.

Her dubious attempt at acting was wasted, since Theta was already caught up in his own thoughts, his pacing becoming more and more agitated. "No, never. It shouldn't be possible. I don't suppose you could be mistaken? No, of course not. If you hadn't actually seen it, you wouldn't know what to describe. But a crack in time and space, here on Gallifrey? Not just classroom theory, but a real, actual, honest-to-goodness crack. Who knows what that might mean?"

"You can't tell anyone!" Tejana objected in sudden alarm. If the other Time Lords started investigating, the anomaly of her presence would soon be detected. And she knew enough of Gallifreyan politics to realise that returning her to her own time was probably the last thing they would ever do. They would be much more likely to lock her up in the cells beneath the Citadel for endless questioning. She had no intention of ever returning to those cells again. She would kill someone first.

"Hey, calm down, Kat," Theta said soothingly. "I didn't say anything about telling anyone else." He slid his arm comfortingly around her shoulders. "You're shaking! This really has you rattled, doesn't it?"

Tejana swallowed convulsively. She could hardly tell him that it was her own bad memories upsetting her. "I just don't want to get into any trouble," she whispered.

"You won't, I promise. We'll keep it between us," Theta assured her. "Unless Gallifrey is threatened in any way, of course. Can you show me exactly where the crack was?"

She nodded and rose from the rock, preparing to lead the way out of the garden.

* * *

Theta watched Kat move carefully across the raked sand, her footsteps as light as a dance as she made her way to the garden gate. Now that she couldn't see his face, his brow was furrowed in worry - more worry than he had wanted to show her. Poor little Kat was scared enough already. She was so small and vulnerable. He didn't want to terrify her further by explaining just how serious these cracks could be.

He got to his feet and was about to follow her, when something caught his eyes. On Kat's side of the rock, there were some marks in the sand that hadn't been there before. Leaning over, he looked closer and saw that they were letters. But it wasn't Gallifreyan script. To his surprise, he realised that it was written in English, a human language from the planet Earth. The letters were crudely drawn, the lines extremely wobbly, as if it had taken someone a great deal of strain and effort to form them. Nevertheless, they were still readable, if completely cryptic.

They said: "YANA".

He stared at the word in puzzlement. YANA? Was it an acronym? A message? Did the letters stand for something? If so, what? For a brief, wild moment, he wondered if Kat had written them there and he almost summoned her back to ask her about them. But then he dismissed the notion as ridiculous. Kat was a maidservant. She probably couldn't even read and write Gallifreyan particularly well, let alone English. Besides, all his classmates knew of his quirky obsession with the planet Earth. He got mocked about it all the time. Obviously one of the other young Time Lords had been here and had written it as some sort of stupid joke and he just hadn't noticed.

"Lord Theta, are you coming?" he heard Kat calling.

"Yes," he said, dismissing the odd writing with a shrug and heading for the gate. "I'm coming."

Behind him, he didn't notice the sand smear back and forth, obliterating the writing, as if someone had swiped angrily at it in a storm of utter frustration.

Consequently, there was nothing left to be seen when the detachment of Chancellery Guard arrived a short time later.

* * *

"What news?" Lord President Drall demanded, staring unseeingly out the window of his office towards the peaks of Mount Cadon.

Behind him, Chancellor Umbast shifted his feet nervously under his formal robe. "Nothing good, Your Supremacy. The cracks in Time are slowly spreading, reaching further and further back towards us. All along the space/time continuum, suns are simultaneously going supernova at every point, wiping entire galaxies from the history of the Universe, as if they had never been!"

"And Gallifrey?" Drall inquired in a sharp voice. "How long do we have?"

"We don't know for sure, my Lord. The transduction barrier will protect us for quite some time, but eventually..."

"Yes, yes, I quite understand the peril we're in, Chancellor," Drall snapped. What he didn't know was quite what to do about it. He could feel droplets of sweat beading down his back. Of course, this couldn't have happened in his predecessor's term of office, could it? Oh no, Lord President Saran had managed to have a long, uneventful incumbency and had now happily retired, leaving the responsibility for this resolving this disaster all down to Drall. "We'll keep this under wraps for now. There's no point starting a mass panic, so it will be business as usual, until we formulate some sort of solution. Have we at least managed to pick up the trail of the intruder?"

"After a fashion," Umbast answered reluctantly. "We managed to detect some anomalous psychic energy in the gardens of the Prydonian Academy, but when the Guard arrived, there was no-one to be found."

"And now?"

"Nothing. There was no way to trace even which direction the intruder went in. We've never known a Time Lord with this degree of perfect shielding before."

"Apparently, there's quite a few things we don't know!" Drall said acerbically, turning to glare at his unfortunate subordinate. "Which doesn't exactly fill me with optimism for the future, Chancellor Umbast."

Umbast scowled, his face tight with suppressed anger and humiliation at his failure. "He can't keep it up indefinitely. Sooner or later, he'll have to slip up again, and then we'll have him."

"Then let us sincerely hope that it's sooner rather than later," Drall replied, turning back to the magnificent view. "Because we're running out of time. Whoever this renegade Time Lord is, every one of my instincts tells me that he or she is the key to this disaster, and I want them found."

* * *

Unaware that she was already being hunted, Tejana guided Theta to the corridor where she had first materialised, happy that he didn't appear to be in any way suspicious of her story. As soon as she pointed out the place where the crack had been, he pulled out a chunky device and began waving it through the air. Almost immediately, it started to beep, with a high-pitched, extremely annoying sound. Tejana stared, trying to work out what on Gallifrey he was doing.

Seeing the look of confusion on her face, he grinned. "My newest invention!" he bragged proudly. "I call it the sonic screwdriver. Well, it was either that or 'point-and-click-thingy-with-a-cool-light-in-the-end', and I thought sonic screwdriver had a bit more of a ring to it. No-one's ever had anything like it before."

Tejana could hardly restrain the delighted answering grin that crept across her own face. _History_, she thought to herself. _History in the making_. The device in his hand bore little resemblance to the elegant, streamlined, multi-purpose tool it was destined to become. It was too big, clumsy and misshapen. But her eyes devoured it eagerly, taking in every detail, unable to resist the fascination of this insight into her father's past.

"So _that's_ the reason you stood Lady Ushas up at last year's Otherstide Ball?" she said impishly.

Theta blushed, even the tips of his ears turning bright red. "Oh, so you heard about that, did you?" he muttered. "Actually, that was just the prototype back then. This is the new and improved version. It does a lot more things."

"What sort of things?"

"Oh, you know...scanning things, fixing things, opening doors, that sort of stuff," he responded vaguely. "And it's especially great if you feel really bored and get the urge to whack up a set of shelves."

"Sounds...amazing."

He turned in a circle, in the centre of the corridor, listening intently to the beeping noise. "Can't get it to do deadlocks though, no matter how hard I try. Or anything wood, for that matter," he added gloomily. "Koschei reckons it'll never catch on. He says I should try making a laser screwdriver instead. More useful, he says, a weapon and a tool combined."

"But you don't agree?" she asked, thinking uncomfortably of the beautifully-crafted laser screwdriver resting in the safety of her jacket pocket back in her room.

"I don't have much time for weapons," he replied curtly. "Anyway, it looks like you were right about that crack being here. The screwdriver is picking up a large amount of rogue temporal energy, so it must have been a fair size. What ended up closing it, did you see?"

"No," she lied. "I ran away."

He shot her a quick, curious look at the flat tone in her voice, but he didn't make any comment. Instead, he continued, "Going by the theory they teach in the Academy, the only thing that can close a crack of that size is to absorb a complicated space-time event. And there's not too many of those around."

"Perhaps it managed to absorb a Time Lord?" Tejana suggested, ensuring her voice was tinged with an appropriate amount of voyeuristic horror. "Right here, in this very corridor?"

Theta snorted. "What makes you think a Time Lord would qualify as a complicated space-time event?"

"They wouldn't?" she queried, in genuine bewilderment this time. She had always been taught that every Time Lord was a complicated space-time event. As a people, that was just who and what they were.

"A complicated space-time event is made up of an infinite number of strands of differential energy," Theta explained in an almost school-teacherish fashion, this time poignantly reminding her more of Ten than of Eleven. She almost expected him to whip out Ten's black-framed spectacles and put them on. "Every decision you make affects the Universe in some way, big or small. Every time you go one way instead of another, differential energy is released, as the choice you make denies millions or maybe even billions of other possibilities. And the more substantial the differential energy released, the more complicated the space-time event becomes. But Time Lord society has stood still for so long that it's practically ossified. Thanks to the policy of non-intervention, none of the decisions the Time Lords make have any impact on the Universe as a whole. Once, perhaps, any one of our race would have been the absolute definition of a complicated space-time event. But not any more. We're nothing but useless figureheads."

Images of the Time War flashed across Tejana's inner eye. Fire. Blood. Destruction. Carnage. Ruin. Death. Every single decision any Time Lord made, no matter how small, impacting on millions of lives across the galaxies. She drew in a short, sharp breath. _Be careful what you wish for, my father..._

"Are you OK?" Theta asked anxiously. "You've gone all pale again."

"I'm fine," she responded. "But you...you sound so frustrated, Lord Theta. As though you hate it here."

Moodily, Theta stretched out his hand and ran it down the stone wall. "Sometimes I do. My life is already mapped out for me. I can see it like a road, stretching straight out in front of me. No bends, no curves, no surprises, no mysteries." He tossed the bulky screwdriver up in the air and caught it again, before slipping it back in his pocket. "I'm promised to be married, did you know that? As soon as I graduate. Melanakaturadilena of the House of Fire Stone. She's a nice girl...or so they tell me. I wouldn't know. I've only met her once or twice. But I'm to take her to this year's Otherstide Ball in a couple of days, to make our intentions public."

The bitterness in his voice struck at Tejana like a lash. She knew, of course, that he had never really loved her mother, that she had been born of a union of convenience rather than one of emotion. Sometimes she thought that was one of the reasons she was so determined to cling to her stormy, passionate relationship with the Master, because every second she was with him, he made her _feel_ something, whether it was good or bad. From the beginning, there had never been anything lukewarm between them. But knowing the prosaic truth about her parents' marriage didn't help to ease the hurt of seeing the rebellion and disgust in the eyes of her young father-to-be.

"You..." Her voice seemed to catch on a painful lump in her throat and she had to try again. "You really don't want to marry her, do you?"

Theta sighed and shuffled his feet. "I don't want to marry _anyone_. There's so many other things I want to do. I wanted to travel the Universe with Koschei. I wanted the two of us to see everything there was to see, to go places our people have only ever dreamed about. But I'm never going to get the chance."

"But...what about children?" she asked. She didn't really want to hear his answer, but somehow, she just couldn't let the subject go. It was like poking at an open wound to see if it would hurt. "Don't you want children one day?"

He gave her a tolerant, lop-sided smile. "Of course. Eventually. All Time Lords want a son to follow them and carry on the family name, that's just the natural order of things."

"A son?" _Oh gods, not only did he not want me, I was never even the right gender! _"What about a daughter?"

"I don't know...I've never really thought about it before," he responded, his eyes far away and distant, as though he was imagining it as he spoke. "Actually, yes. I think I'd love a daughter. It would be wonderful. But it would be a lot harder, I guess."

She frowned, not understanding. "Harder how?"

"Well, there'd be more to it," he shrugged. "A son would be more straightforward. I'd know exactly how to treat him, what to teach him. But a daughter, that's different. Complicated. There'd be so much I'd want her to have."

_Complicated, _Tejana thought. _Yes, that was how their relationship had always been...complicated. _She looked away from him, hiding the pain in her eyes, hearing Eleven's voice back at the Underhenge - "_This isn't what I wanted for you, Tejana..."_

Her lips quirked in sadness. "My father was always very good at telling me what he didn't want for me. But he never really managed to say what it was he did want."

Theta smiled comfortingly and took her hand. "Probably the same things all fathers want for their daughters. The same things I would want for mine."

"What things?" she asked shakily.

"Love. Laughter. All the happiness in the Universe. Magic and wonder and joy. And most of all, above everything else, for her to be safe."

Tejana looked down at his hand holding hers and hot tears welled in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks, all the emotions she felt for him burning in her chest - all the hero-worship she had felt as a child, all the adoration she had felt in her girlhood, all the deep love and respect she felt toward him now she was an adult, despite being able to see all his faults and foibles.

_Most of all, above everything else, for her to be safe... _ Her hearts cried out at the words. _Oh__ gods, Doctor, I'm so sorry...please let there still be a chance to straighten it all out between us..._

"Hey, you're crying," Theta said in immediate concern. "What did I say?"

A small smile shone through her tears. "Exactly what I needed to hear," she told him, her voice choked with feeling. "I love my father so much, but a lot of things have come between us lately, and I regret that more than I can ever say. But right now, I feel closer to understanding him than I have in a very long time."

He grinned back at her. "You're welcome."

Leaning forward, she kissed him swiftly on the cheek, afraid that if she stayed any longer she would reveal too much. "Thanks for listening to me about the crack. But I do have to get back to work now, or Fionnula will be on the warpath again."

"I'll run these scan results through some of the Academy data banks as soon as no-one's looking, see what I can turn up," Theta assured her as she walked away from him up the passageway. "One way or another I'll get to the bottom of this, I promise."

She looked back over her shoulder at him. "You always do."

And then, before he could answer, she hurried away.

* * *

It was semi-dark when Captain John Hart finally dragged himself back into consciousness. Blearily, he tried to force his eyes open, trying to remember where the hell he was. His head was pounding like a bass drum and his injured shoulder was aching mercilessly. As he moved, a beer bottle that had been sitting on his chest overbalanced and fell to the floor with a sharp clink, which suggested that there was already a pile of similar bottles somewhere down there. Across the room, a large television screen fizzed with black and white static.

He gave a heartfelt groan. Oh yeah, he had it now. He wasn't on Mnemosyne any more, he was on board Blondie's TARDIS. He'd been celebrating his close escape from death and had lost count of how many beers he had drunk. It had to have been more than a few, because these days it took a hell of a lot of alcohol to wipe him out, even after his so-called rehab. And from the lousy way he felt, together with the amount of time he appeared to have lost, he supposed he must have been unconscious for quite a while. His eyeballs felt like somebody had been polishing them with sandpaper and his mouth tasted like he'd been licking the bottom of an ashtray.

"That does it," he growled aloud, levering himself to a sitting position and dropping his head into his hands. "I am _never_ drinking again."

_And if you believe that, you'd believe any-goddamn-thing, _he added silently, knowing himself only too well.

As the room slowly re-oriented itself around him, he realised that something strange was niggling at him. In his befuddled state, it took him a moment to put his finger on the problem. Then it came to him. His wrist felt light and empty. The heavy leather strap of his vortex manipulator was missing – a strap that was always there, no matter what. At first, he felt a jolt of extreme alarm, until he vaguely remembered taking it off and handing it to Tejana. She'd been looking all sultry and sexy and beddable in that hot new dress and she'd asked to borrow it. What was it for, now? Something about Blondie and going to see her father about arranging a wedding. It was all a bit hazy and unreal. She'd told him she wouldn't be very long. He couldn't be positive, what with the whole passing out thing, but surely that was hours ago?

He got carefully to his feet, still supporting his aching head in his hands, and stumbled towards the door, swearing viciously as he almost tripped over the rubbish strewn all over the floor. With some difficulty, he managed to make it to the top of the stairs leading down to the console platform. The control room was completely empty.

"PRINCESS!" he yelled loudly, grimacing as the noise seemed to echo around the silent room, piercing his foggy brain like the blade of his samurai sword. "BLONDIE? Hello? Is anyone there?"

There was no answer. He tilted his head, listening carefully. The TARDIS was huge inside, he knew that. Maybe it was even infinite. Corridor after corridor led off far into the distance, leading God only knew where. Tejana had warned him a number of times about wandering off and getting lost in the bewildering maze. His two companions could be anywhere in there and he would never be able to find them unless they wanted him to. Nevertheless, right at this moment, every sense he had was warning him that he was alone inside the time machine.

Slowly, he walked down the stairs. The time rotor was still and unmoving. He knew next to nothing about the TARDIS systems, but he was aware that meant they weren't currently flying through the Time Vortex. The other thing he knew how to do was to activate the big exterior scanner screen on the wall, so that was what he did next, expecting to see the bright lights and cheerful colours of the intergalactic shopping mall. Instead, he saw a dark, gloomy cave, lit only by the flickering orange glow of several flaming torches, placed at intervals around the stony walls. In the middle of the room, he could just make out the outline of a huge, grey box. Everything seemed to be covered with dust and cobwebs.

Hart raised his eyebrows in surprise. Obviously he had missed a bit of action while he was out cold. "Oooo-kay..." he muttered. "So...it looks like Blondie tracked you down and decided to follow you after all, Princess. No big surprise there, I guess. Not that this would be my first choice for a wedding venue, but what the hell would I know?"

For a few minutes, he studied the scene on the scanner. Nothing moved and he could see no trace of either the Master or Tejana. It didn't look as if anyone had set foot there for centuries, let alone recently. But after losing their TARDIS once before on Mnemosyne, he couldn't see either of them straying too far away from the time machine. Which meant that either one or both of them had to be nearby.

Reaching out, he lightly touched the door control and opened the interface between the TARDIS and the outside world.

* * *

_**Author's Note: All right, I'm hoping all readers are big enough Who-fans to remember that the acronym YANA means "You. Are. Not. Alone.", yes?**_

_**And Captain John Hart is back on deck - will the Pandorica ever be the same?  
**_

_**Next chapter - Anzor makes his move...  
**_


	8. Chapter 8

**_Author's Note: _**

**_Thank you, thank you, thank you to all the lovely people who reviewed the last chapter, you all made me very happy:- MayFairy, Daughter of the Master, TheGreatWhite, Lost Moon, Lexy Summers, EmmaMarie, Neopolitan Dreamss (x 3), sailormajinmoon, SawManiac211, gallifrey calls now, MountainLord-92, CharcoalFaith, Ahsilaa, JessieDear13, Theta'sWorstNightmare and EDZEL2 (x 4)._**

**_To Lost Moon: Here's another quick update, aren't you proud of me? Ah, questions, questions, you shall have to wait and see. LOL, yeah, there are a few Master/OC fics around at the moment, aren't there? I remember when I first posted, I was very nervous because I wasn't sure whether Master/OC was the "done thing" or not. How times have changed! All good though - the more popular the Master is, the better the chance the BBC will bring him back, fingers crossed._  
**

**_To sailormajinmoon: Thanks so much for another review! You are correct, the 'YANA' message was for Tejana to see, except that she didn't, LOL. Hopefully you will enjoy this next bit too XXX  
_**

**_WARNING: This chapter is a bit dark, with some mentions of violence and some Tejana!Whump. Just letting you know up front ;)_**

**_Here's hoping it isn't /too/ dark and everyone still enjoys XXX_**

* * *

**- Chapter Eight -_  
_**

_"I'll become one of the Neverwere, but I'll never leave her. I'll whisper in her ear, walk through her dreams. I will never, __ever_ let her go..."

_- The Master, So Many Things Should Have Been Different  
_

* * *

_The place was like a tomb._

It was the first thought Hart had when he stepped out of the TARDIS and he couldn't seem to shake it. The air inside the cavern felt heavy, redolent with the sadness and decay of centuries, while the silence had an almost eerie quality, not just the temporary absence of sound, but as if there had never been any sound there to hear at all.

Hart's hands dropped to the holsters on his belt, automatically seeking the reassurance of his blaster pistols, only to mutter a curse as he remembered they were empty. He really had to do something about that, and soon. Warily, he walked further into the room, his eyes searching the darkness for any sign of movement. As deserted as this place seemed, someone had to have been here recently to light those flickering torches.

The grey cube sat like a watchful sentinel, dominating the rest of the cave. All around it were grouped what looked to be a garden of strange-looking statues, all of them facing inward, toward the box. _ Some kind of weird temple, perhaps?_ Hart wondered uneasily. The box was engraved on each side with complicated, circular runes. Maybe it was some sort of object of veneration. He drew closer to the nearest statue to study it in more detail. It was shaped like a man in the uniform of a Roman soldier, kneeling on the ground with his arms up over his face, as if warding off something terrifying. Curiosity winning out over caution, Hart wandered between the motionless figures, looking at each one. There were several dozen of them and no two were alike. Some were creatures he had previously encountered in his travels throughout the Universe, such as a Cyberman, a Blowfish and a Draconian. Others he had never seen before, such as the short, ugly warriors with heads that closely resembled a warty potato. All the figures appeared to be sculpted from a peculiar, grey, ashy substance.

He paused in front of a thing shaped vaguely like a pepper pot, with a bulbous, protruding eyestalk. An icy shiver passed over his skin. In the back of his head, he replayed the memory of Tejana's voice back on Mnemosyne..._Have you ever seen a Dalek, Hart? Mutated humanoids encased in an armoured shell...they want to kill everything in the Universe that isn't a Dalek...ruthless, single-minded and completely beyond reason..._

Was this a Dalek? Reaching out cautiously with a single forefinger, he gave the eyestalk a gentle prod. Immediately, the entire statue disintegrated into dust and fell to the floor. Hart took a startled step backwards, staring at the grey particles sifting past his feet. That wasn't ordinary dust, nor was it ash. He'd been a Time Agent long enough to recognise entropy dust when he saw it. And these things weren't statues either. They were temporal residue. Something had happened here, some sort of catastrophic glitch in the causal nexus that had wiped all these creatures out of time and space, leaving only these echoes behind.

"PRINCESS!" he yelled again. "BLONDIE! WHERE ARE YOU?"

There was no answer, except his own voice bouncing mournfully back to him from the stone walls. Making sure he didn't touch any of the other fossilised figures, he edged over to the enormous cube, hoping to find some evidence of his missing companions. He could tell nothing from the runes etched into the exterior of the mysterious box – he had never seen anything like them before. They felt ice-cold under his hand, humming with some kind of unidentifiable energy that made his skin crawl. He pulled his fingers sharply away, as though he had been burned.

To his right, lying abandoned on the ground beside the box, a square, leather satchel caught his attention. It looked like a woman's bag. Much too girly for Blondie, but maybe it belonged to Tejana. Crouching down, he flipped it open and began to explore inside. The first thing he pulled out was a large, lethal-looking knife, which he examined with approval and then slipped inside his boot. The next thing was even better – a sonic blaster pistol, somewhat old-fashioned compared to the cutting-edge weaponry he usually carried, but still very serviceable. Whoever it belonged to, the bag was proving to be a treasure trove. Obviously someone believed in being prepared. He twirled the gun on his finger and then shoved it into one of his empty holsters.

Again, he looked inside the satchel, tensing in shock as he drew out the next item. It was a vortex manipulator. But not just any vortex manipulator. Every wrist-strap issued by the Time Agency was slightly different, each one as unique as the operatives who wore them. This one was his, he would know it anywhere. But it was battered and worn, much older in appearance than the one he had lent to Tejana, as if quite a few years had passed. The same wrist-strap then, but from some distant point in the future. How had it ended up here? Where was Tejana with the wrist-strap from his current time-line? What the _hell_ was going on?

There was one last item left in the bottom of the satchel. It was so small he almost didn't notice it at first. But then the glint of gold attracted his eye. It looked innocuous enough, just a beautifully-engraved lipstick case, just like any woman might carry in her bag. But Hart's gaze sharpened as soon as he saw it.

_Oh, you have to be kidding, _he thought incredulously, _it can't be!_

Pulling off the top of the case, he sniffed at the carmine lipstick inside. Just as he had guessed, it was hallucinogenic. No wonder he recognised the golden case. It was the very same gift he had given her on that long ago mission.

_River Song. _A long, slow grin spread across his face. _Well now, wasn't the Universe such a small, small place?_

* * *

Thankfully, Tejana managed to get through that night's dinner service in the Refectory without any further incidents. She worked hard and kept her mind on the job, determined not to give Fionnula any excuse to complain. Not wishing to draw any more attention to herself than she already had, she purposely stayed well away from the Deca table, leaving the other servants to attend to their needs. Even Theta didn't acknowledge her as she passed by to reach the other nearby tables, which hurt a little bit, even though it was exactly what she had asked of him. A few times she thought she felt Koschei's dark blue gaze resting on her, but whenever she glanced up, he was looking elsewhere.

The only slightly unsettling thing that happened was when she was collecting the used dishes from in front of a heavy-set boy with ice grey eyes and closely-cut dark brown hair. Just as she was lifting his plate away, his hand had snaked out and grabbed her wrist in a powerful grasp, making her jump.

"What's your name, girl?" he demanded.

Instantly disliking him, Tejana went absolutely still and raised her chin, refusing to be intimidated by his arrogant stare. "Kat...my Lord," she replied coolly, without flinching or dropping her eyes.

"My name is Anzor," he told her, with a smile she could only describe as sly. "I'm Lord President Drall's son. And I'm a _very_ good friend of Theta Sigma."

Still holding her arm in a vice-like grip, he looked over towards the Deca table. She followed his gaze. Theta's eyes were fixed on them and the expression on his face was anything but friendly. His body was tensed and it looked like he was about to jump to his feet, until Koschei's hand flew to his shoulder, apparently holding him back, while whispering urgently in his ear.

Anzor laughed, a peculiarly ugly sound, and he raised his free hand in a mocking salute towards Theta, before turning back to his own table and releasing Tejana's arm as though nothing had happened.

"Carry on with your work, little Kat," he leered. "Wouldn't want you getting in any trouble now, would we?"

"No, my Lord," she said flatly, placing his plate on her pile and hurrying off through the crowded room, relieved to be away from him. _What on Gallifrey was that all about? _She racked her brain, but couldn't remember the Doctor ever mentioning anyone called Anzor. As far as she knew, he hadn't ever been overly friendly with anyone outside the Deca. Then again, she had never known that he had once had a fling with the Rani either, so that didn't necessarily mean anything.

Putting the plates inside the transmat cabinet, she risked another glance in Theta's direction. He had his head down and Koschei was still speaking rapidly to him, as if trying to talk him out of doing something stupid. A frown creased her brow at the sight. She was going to have to find out what the deal was between Theta and Anzor. She couldn't afford any unexpected surprises right now.

However, she had no chance to speak to Theta before he left the room with the rest of the Deca. Anzor left a short time later, laughing and joking coarsely with his own friends. He gave her a wink as he passed, but she pretended not to see it. Soon the room cleared of students entirely, leaving only the servants to tidy up and make the hall ready for breakfast the following morning. Outside the enormous windows, velvet night spread across the mountains, heralding the end of another day.

Tejana drew in a deep breath, staring out at the magnificent starry sky with something very close to contentment as she wiped down the last of the tables. It was so lovely, so very peaceful. But then something odd occurred to her. Some of the constellations seemed a lot less brighter than usual. And where was the Eye of Orion? At this time of year, it should be clearly visible from the Citadel, shining through the night sky like a beacon. She turned to Dyoni, who was busy using a small, hand-held sanitation device to clean up a spill on the floor.

"Dyoni?"

"Mmmmm?" the other girl responded distractedly.

"Does something seem different to you about the sky tonight?"

Absorbed in her task, Dyoni raised her head to look, gave a small shrug and went back to what she was doing. "No. It's the same as always."

"You haven't noticed that some of the stars seem to be...missing?"

Dyoni looked at her blankly. "Sometimes I worry about you, Kat. How can a star go missing? Of course they're all there, same as always."

"What about the Eye of Orion? And the Flame Nebula?"

"I've never even heard of those," Dyoni replied. "Is this some kind of strange Shabogan legend?"

"No, I..." Tejana's voice trailed away as a cold blanket of fear seemed to envelop her. Frantically, her eyes searched the night sky, trying to find something...anything...to prove that she had made an error. But there was no mistake. The stars were going out. Everyone on Gallifrey knew the Eye of Orion, even the tiniest of children. Now it was _gone_ and Dyoni didn't even remember it? "I'm sorry...it doesn't matter, just forget it."

She managed to finish the rest of her tasks almost on auto-pilot, her mind in turmoil. The presence of the cracks had been alarming enough before, but she had never for one moment thought that things could be this bad. The anxiety of not knowing what was going on was immense. She had to speak to Theta. She had to get her hands on whatever data he had been able to gather. He was not strictly a time-traveller yet – a few short training trips in a TARDIS hardly counted. Would he be able to remember the stars that were lost? Or would he, like Dyoni, have forgotten they ever existed?

The idea of waiting until the next day to speak to him made her want to scream with frustration. So when she got back to the room she shared with Dyoni and found the crumpled note under her pillow, it filled her with nothing but relief. It said: "Kat, I need to speak to you. Meet me back in the Refectory at midnight. Don't tell anybody." And it was signed θΣ, the traditional symbols that represented the name Theta Sigma.

She was so busy puzzling out exactly what she was going to say to him that it never occurred to her to question whether or not the note was genuine.

* * *

The Refectory was still beautiful after hours, but it was a bit spooky as well. Everything was quiet, all the noise and the clatter of the day having disappeared with the crowd of students. Tejana stood in the doorway and extinguished her lamp. She hardly needed it in here. Selenista Gallifreya was riding high above the mountaintops like an amaranthine galleon, casting a sparkling cascade of violet moonlight down through the Cadonflood Valley until it streamed through the huge windows to envelop the room.

The sight was beyond magnificent, but it still made Tejana stir uncomfortably. She would never be able to see purple moonlight again without thinking of the Chaos-Master on Mnemosyne.

_So...tell me, Ana...have you ever danced with the Devil in the pale moonlight?_

Resolutely, she pushed the memory away. The creature was gone. It had shattered into a million pieces on top of Mount Boreas and she never needed to think about it again.

She stepped forward into the room. "Theta? Lord Theta, are you here?"

Her voice seemed thin and small, as if it was being sucked into a vacuum. Nobody replied and she could see no sign of Theta in the big, empty room. Slowly, she began to walk, listening to the soft sound of her own footsteps on the stone floor. Her internal chronometry told her that it was well past midnight already.

_He's just a bit late_, she told herself, determined not to give in to the uneasiness whispering up her spine. _Maybe he had trouble sneaking away from the others._

Out of sheer habit, she crossed the room and sat down at the table she had always shared with Damon, during her own time at the Academy. She kept her eyes averted from the window, not wanting to see how wrong the stars looked. Somehow they were going to fix this. Somehow, crack or no crack, she would manage to re-write her name into the Song of the Universe. These days she had far too much to live for to just let it all slip away from her. Kat, the Shobogan maidservant would disappear, and one day, Tejanakaturadilena of the House of Lungbarrow would sit here with her best friend Damon and dream of travelling with her father among those very stars.

Suddenly she heard an odd, off-key whistling that raised the hairs on the back of her neck. She tensed, every muscle tightly strung. Someone was in the room with her, someone who was whistling the same three notes over and over in a monotonous, spine-chilling travesty of a tune.

"Who's there?" she called, turning her head in an effort to distinguish which direction the noise was coming from. "Theta? Is that you?"

But even as she said the words, she knew in her hearts that it wasn't her young father. The sound was specifically designed to make her afraid and Theta would never do that. Slowly, she rose to her feet, her eyes travelling swiftly over the nearby tables, all of Jack's Torchwood training automatically clicking into gear. Her laser screwdriver was still back in her room. She needed another weapon and she needed it now. Anything at all would do. But the maidservants had done their job much too well. There was absolutely nothing to hand, no knives, not even a spoon, which could at least have been useful for gouging an enemy's eye out.

The whistling stopped abruptly, to be replaced by a high-pitched, demented giggle. She had heard some mad laughter in her time – the Master himself was no slouch in that department – but she had never heard anything quite that horrible before. Whoever it was had clearly passed beyond insane into whatever weirder and murkier realms came next.

"Ka-at!" a male voice sing-songed. "Oh, little Ka-at!"

"You might as well show yourself!" she said coldly. "I'm not afraid of you."

"Oh, but you will be, I can promise you that!" the voice responded, with another flood of crazy laughter. A dark figure stepped forward out of one of the purple-tinted shadows. It was tall and muscular and appeared to be swinging a long, blue stick of some sort, back and forth nonchalantly like a clock pendulum.

"Ta-da! Don't fret, here I am!" the newcomer exclaimed gleefully. "You girls are always just so impatient, aren't you?"

Tejana took a wary step backwards as the moonlight fell across his face, revealing the familiar features of President Drall's son. "Anzor!" she breathed, very aware that he now stood between her and the only exit from the room. Going by the manic glitter in his eyes, she somehow didn't think this was going to be a pleasant little chat.

"That's _Lord_ Anzor to you, little Kat! Waiting for my good friend, Lord Theta, are you? I'm afraid I have some bad news for you. He's not coming."

Worry for Theta crawled up inside her. "Why? What have you done to him?"

"I haven't done anything to him. _Yet_," Anzor smirked. "That note was from me, not from him. Why should he get all the fun, hmmmm?"

_Stupid! I'm so stupid!_ Tejana berated herself angrily. After all she'd been through, and she'd still walked straight into a trap and hadn't even seen it coming. It wasn't the first time someone had tried to use her to get at the Doctor and it probably wouldn't be the last. But she was damned if she was going to make it easy for him, whatever he had planned.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said, in a voice like ice. "And I'd like to leave now, please."

"Oh no, I couldn't possibly let you do that. We're just getting started. We're going to have lots of fun together, the three of us."

She looked around sharply, but there was no-one else there. "The three of us?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, how remiss of me. I haven't introduced you to my friend yet, have I?" He raised the rod he was holding in the air. "Kat, I'd like you to meet my galvaniser." As he spoke, coruscating snakes of white-hot energy ran up and down the length of the blue rod and the tip glowed with a sick orange colour. Tejana drew in a shocked breath as it began to dawn on her just how much trouble she was in. Anzor laughed evilly at the look on her face. "My father has an estate near the Lune Forest on the Continent of Absolute Beauty. Sometimes the lynx come down out of the mountains and worry the livestock. We use these to hunt them down and slaughter them." His nostrils widened, his face a picture of savage pleasure and bloodlust. "You have no idea of the excitement of it, Kat, the incredible feeling you get from the hunt, outwitting the prey, cornering it so it can't escape, then the thrill of subjugating it. Every time I came back to the Academy I missed it so badly. But then, you see, I realised, just because I was here didn't mean I had to give up my passion. There are still animals to be hunted, even in this place. I may not be able to kill them – Father might object, you see – but there are other outcomes just as enjoyable."

"Oh gods, you're talking about the servants, aren't you?" she gasped in horror as his meaning became clear. "They aren't animals, you monster, they're _people_!"

He chuckled sadistically. "Oh, you're animals, all right, all you servant girls. Maybe a bit prettier to look at, maybe a bit softer to touch, but animals nonetheless...nothing but little bitches in heat, just waiting for me to play with you." His smile widened as he looked her up and down. "And this time it's your turn. Theta Sigma's hot little girlfriend. How many times have you given it up for him, Kat, eh? How many times have you been in his bed? And what about his friend, Oakdown? I saw him looking at you too. How many times have you pleasured him? Or maybe you did them both at the same time?"

"You're _sick_!" she spat.

Anger darkened his face at her contemptuous tone. "I'm going to enjoy using that smart little mouth for anything and everything I choose when this is over. I'm going to teach Theta Sigma and his little gang just what it means to cross me. You're going to beg me to stop before I'm through, servant girl, and I will relish every single one of your screams."

He began to walk towards her, the galvaniser held lovingly in his hands. All her options began flashing through her mind in a continuous blur. She could fight him. She'd learned enough of unarmed hand-to-hand combat both in the Time War and also during her time at Torchwood to put up a decent struggle. But that had been in her previous incarnation, when she had been taller and stronger. Now that her charge of excess regeneration energy had worn off, her new body wasn't exactly built for sustained aggression. She could call for help, using the psychic link. Theta would come, perhaps even the rest of the Deca. But if she called to him, her cover as a maidservant would instantly be blown. And he might not be the only one who would hear, bringing the wrath of the Time Lords down not only on her, but possibly on Theta and Koschei as well. She couldn't do that, not only because she loved them both, but also because it might change history in ways she couldn't even begin to imagine. Things were bad enough already without that.

Her last option was to run, but that involved trying to get past Anzor to the door, giving him the chance to hunt her down through the room with his galvaniser, which was exactly what the bastard wanted. She had no doubt that he planned to incapacitate her with the device as painfully as possible, before sexually degrading and raping her. Who knew how many other servant girls he had done this to before? _Minya... _The name jumped into her head like a firecracker going off. Was this what had happened to her? Of course, it had to be. And Dyoni knew about it – all the maids did – that's why they were so scared to work alone. But no-one dared to talk about it because this psychopath was Lord President Drall's only son.

"Don't worry, Kat," he crooned, as if he was reading her mind. "I'm a fair man. Let's do a deal. You get past me to the door and I'll let you go free, I promise. All you have to do is reach the safety of the doorway. So come on now, little one...make it fun for me...let me see that spirit...RUN!"

So she did, but not in the way he had expected. Lowering her head, she charged straight at him like a bull at a gate, head butting him savagely in the stomach. Unprepared, he went down, with her on top of him. She tried to twist aside so that she could get up and run to the door, but before she could make it, he brought the galvaniser around and thrust it at her shoulder. A bolt of pure agony shot through her, flinging her backwards across the floor like a physical blow.

Anzor sat up, breathing heavily. "I knew you'd be a fighter," he said, the psychotic grin still plastered across his face. "I can always tell."

Tejana's right arm was twitching madly from the shock. _Get up! _she told herself fiercely. _You're a Time Lady of Gallifrey. You're the Doctor's daughter, you're the Master's wife. Don't you DARE give in!_

She could hear him coming, his footsteps sliding over the stone. So she lay still, pretending to be stunned. "Come on, little Kat, is that all you've got? You disappoint me," he mocked, stepping closer to her supine body.

Spinning around with all her strength, she lashed out with a scissor kick that swept Anzor's feet out from under him. He fell to the ground, grunting as his head struck one of the tables on the way down. Tejana was up and running in a second, only to feel another searing blast streaking up her leg. She screamed in agony and collapsed, the injured leg giving out under her. Somewhere under the avalanche of pain, she knew with a cold certainty she couldn't take too many more hits like this without risking the life of the baby in her belly.

She could hear Anzor groaning behind her. He had hurt her, but she had also damaged him, maybe even seriously. Gritting her teeth, she pulled herself to her knees and began to crawl, every atom of her being concentrated on reaching the doorway. The next bolt caught her in the back, punching her into the ground. Everything inside her head flashed bone white in pain as her spine seemed to shear in half. Dimly, she realised that the howl of unutterable anguish she could hear was coming from her own mouth.

Anzor stood over her, unsteadily rocking back and forth on his feet, blood dripping from his head injury. "That's it, Kat, _scream_ for me!" he hissed, his hand swooping down to tangle painfully in her hair. "I like to hear my prey scream!"

With one swift movement, he flipped her over until she was lying on her back. He stared down at her, his eyes bright with triumph and rampant arousal. "Feisty little thing, aren't you? Had enough yet?" he sneered. "Because I haven't. How about a little shock _here_?" Tauntingly, he brushed the glowing orange tip of the galvaniser over Tejana's full lips, parted as she struggled for breath. "Or here?" The rod moved downward, tracing a path down her neck until it settled on her right breast, intimately circling the small, firm mound of flesh. "Or, even better, what about here?" Again, the instrument of torture moved downwards, until it nudged at the apex of her thighs.

"Go to hell!" Tejana gritted out, appalled at the realisation of the suffering she was about to endure, but still unwilling to yield anything to this madman.

"On the contrary, that's just where you're going to find yourself, little Kat," he promised. "The last girl I did this to...well, let's just say, her sanity gave out before her body did." He giggled wildly. "I looked into her eyes and I watched her mind break from the fear and the pain..._snap_...just like that. But I don't think that will happen to you. I think you'll fight me, right to the end. Let's test my hypothesis, shall we?"

Reaching down, he tore her dress open from neck to waist.

* * *

Drax didn't know why he kept on playing the board game Sepulchasm against Koschei. He always lost, every single time. He supposed he lived in hope that one day his luck might change. What he hadn't expected was that it might be today.

It was very late, after midnight. But Time Lords didn't need a lot of sleep and often kept irregular hours, unless some form of physical exertion made them particularly tired. They were sitting in the Deca common room, facing each other over the Sepulchasm pedestal. Drax wasn't sure where everyone else was. Koschei and Theta had apparently had a disagreement about something – the something being the new servant girl, he presumed – and Theta had slammed off to his room. So, ever the peacemaker, Drax had suggested a game of Sepulchasm to distract Koschei. Usually, it was just the thing to smooth things over. Koschei was so competitive that when he got involved in any sort of contest, he tended to forget everything else until he emerged victorious. But tonight he seemed to be finding it difficult to concentrate and, for once, Drax was actually winning.

"Your turn, Kos," he prompted now, after waiting fruitlessly for his friend to make his move.

Koschei blinked, as if his thoughts had been far away, and then reached for the eight-sided dice. But before he touched it, his slender, long-fingered hand froze, hovering in the air over the game board.

"Drax," he said in a tightly-controlled voice. "Is there someone standing behind me?"

Drax glanced up in surprise at the question. He hadn't heard anyone come in. Sure enough, no-one else was in the room except the two of them.

"No," he answered, wondering if this was some weird sort of joke.

"You're _sure_?" Koschei said through clenched teeth.

"Of course I'm sure. Are you feeling all right?"

Suddenly Koschei stiffened and fell forward across the game board, as though something had slammed into his body with enormous force. Most of the miniature game pieces went flying, scattering around the room.

Horrified, Drax reached out and shook him by the arm. "Koschei! KOS!"

Almost immediately, Koschei hurled himself upright and glared at him. Drax recoiled backwards in shock at the change in his friend's eyes. The outer edge of Koschei's navy blue irises were ringed with vibrant chocolate brown.

"_Ana!_" he rasped.

Then he threw back his chair, leapt to his feet and ran for the door as if all the devils of hell were after him.

"Kos, _wait_!" Drax yelled. "Who's Ana?"

But it was too late, the other boy was long gone. Relieved that his friend appeared to be healthy enough after all, Drax gave a long-suffering sigh, wondering how on Gallifrey Koschei had managed to pull off that weird thing with his eyes changing colour.

_Honestly!_ he thought crossly. _That guy will do absolutely anything to avoid losing._

Bending over, he began to pick up the scattered game pieces from the floor, already putting the strange incident out of his mind.


	9. Chapter 9

**_Author's Note: Hello everyone! As always, thanks so much to everyone who reviewed since the last chapter was published - MayFairy, gallifrey calls now, Daughter of the Master, TheGreatWhite, Ahsilaa, Theta'sWorstNightmare, SawManiac211, yulicee (x 4), sailormajinmoon, silentnight, TheWickedHeart, irishartemis, CharcoalFaith, Lost Moon, MountainLord-92, Imorgen (x 5), EmmaMarie, Neopolitan Dreamss and JessieDear13._  
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**_Talk about a massive encouragement to continue updating promptly, you are all wonderful!  
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**_To sailormajinmoon: Thank you so much for your review. Yes, Tejana does have a terrible penchant for getting into trouble, it must be a Time Lord thing. Hopefully you will enjoy this chapter too!  
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**_To silentnight: Hello again, lovely to hear from you XXX Thanks very much for the compliment - one of the great things about the Whoniverse is the huge spectrum of ideas available for a writer. And yep, you seem to have everyone's whereabouts pretty much straight ;) As for what happens next, read on and see...  
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**_To Lost Moon: Thanks for your feedback - and congrats, yes, you were correct, as this chapter will make clear.  
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**_BIG HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MOUNTAINLORD-92, HOPE YOU GOT YOUR CHOCCY CAKE!  
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**_Now, on to the WARNINGS...once again, this chapter carries on the same dark-ish themes from the last one, so if that sort of thing bothers you, please don't read.  
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* * *

**- Chapter Nine - **

_"Anger, fury, rage and ire,_  
_Set the far, wide world on fire!_  
_Flaming hand of life and death,_  
_Catch ablaze my very breath!"_

_Two Steps From Hell, A Hole In The Sun_

* * *

Anzor needed to feed the beast that was ravening inside him. It had always been there, the unceasing hunger for evil, for as long as he could remember. At first, when he was younger, it had been easy enough to sate, with small acts of unkindness or cruelty. But as he got older, it grew stronger and stronger and much more difficult to satisfy. That was when he had discovered how much he liked to torture animals. His doting father, indulgent to a fault, had presented him with his very own galvaniser for one of his early name days and he had quickly become adept in its use. The hunt had become everything to him, the culmination of his twisted passion and desire to inflict pain – the tantalising sense of fear from the creatures he pursued, the exhilarating screams as they died, the delicious smell of blood on the still morning air. But now, even that thrill had palled and he had discovered something even more exciting. He no longer wanted the fear and agony of animals, but instead he craved the sight of those same primal emotions in the eyes of a woman. Animals couldn't beg for mercy, but women could, beautifully and exquisitely. He loved to hear it, before he denied them any mercy at all and their pleading words turned to cries of pain. Nothing had ever aroused him like it before, the power of it, the feeling of control - it was a charge of pure, addictive sexual excitement. Once he had experienced it for the first time, he wanted it more and more often. He didn't even try to fight the urge. On the contrary, he welcomed it. Why try to fight something that gave him so much unbridled pleasure? And it wasn't as though there was any danger to pursuing his desires. Gallifreyan society cared nothing for the women of its lower classes, he could prey on them at will, as long as he was careful and didn't actually kill anyone. He was the Lord President's son. Nobody could touch him, he was beyond reproach.

He stared down at the woman sprawled on her back on the ground in front of him, the front of her dress torn almost from her body, and he couldn't take his eyes from her. All that creamy, unblemished skin on display, waiting for him to mark it how he chose. That stunning corona of fiery hair tumbling around her shoulders in wanton disarray, all the restraining pins lost in their struggle. She was the perfect catch, a dream come true, everything he could possibly want. Such a small, fragile, beautifully breakable body, but with such a fighting spirit inside her. Even now, the emerald green eyes spat venom at him. With the skill of experience, he'd judged the amount of energy he'd used in his blasts just right, according to her body mass. She was physically incapacitated, but remained fully alert, so that she could still feel everything he did to her. An unconscious victim was no fun at all.

"After you're done, you'd better kill me," she told him, her voice fierce and jagged with rage. "Because if you don't, I will find you, however long it takes, and I will make you sorry you were ever born."

Anzor laughed. "Such big threats from such a small person. I have no intention of killing you, Kat. I'd much rather leave you alive, so that every time a man touches you from now on, you'll remember me and this night. It's almost a kind of immortality, don't you think? Because, believe me, you _will_ remember...every single detail..."

Falling to his knees, he straddled her hips, grinding his body into hers, making sure she felt how hard he was, just how his excitement was rapidly building at the prospect of what he was going to do to her. He would start off slowly. After all, he had all night, there was no hurry - and he knew from experience that horrified anticipation was one of the biggest tortures of all when it came to a helpless woman. He would lower the voltage on the galvaniser to start with. Just a tiny shock, here and there, in all her softest and most vulnerable places, escalating her terror while he made free with her body. Then, after a while, he would increase the power, bit by bit, and her pain would really begin.

With a sadistic grin, he held the galvaniser in front of her eyes and deftly telescoped it, reducing the size to make it more suitable for close work. He was so sure that she could no longer move, he got careless and didn't see the flat of her hand shooting up towards him until it was almost too late. She was aiming for his nose, trying to drive the sharp cartilage backwards into his skull, slicing into the soft, grey matter of his brain, where it would instantly kill him. At the last second, he managed to turn his face aside and her hand struck his right cheekbone instead, snapping his neck back with agonising force. Bright lights flashed before his eyes and his head swam.

"Bitch!" he snarled, feeling her struggling beneath him. "Little bitch!"

Viciously, he slapped her across the face, once and then twice, until she lay still, her body limp. Blood ran in a trickle from the corner of her mouth and her green eyes were dazed and disconnected.

"You really don't know when to give up, do you, servant girl?"

Breathing heavily, his gaze traced the scarlet trail of blood running down her chin. A shudder of pleasure ran through him. The red colour looked so rich and vibrant against the white of her complexion...so enticing. Leaning over her, he licked it up, luxuriantly lapping the blood from her warm skin like a cat laps milk, savouring the sharp, coppery taste on his tongue. His left hand wrapped around her slender throat in a choke hold. Then he kissed her, forcing his mouth on to hers in a savage assault, the sweetness of her lips mingling with the tang of her blood, exciting him still further. She was still conscious, but only just. Quivering with anticipation, he brought the galvaniser up and stroked the orange tip softly across her naked breast.

"Uh-uh-uh," he crooned. "No going to sleep on me, little Kat. I wouldn't want you to miss any of the fun. So how about a nice little wake up call?"

He was just about to discharge the galvaniser directly into the girl's soft flesh, when something hard and heavy fell on his shoulder with what felt like the weight of a mountain, spinning him around with incredible force and hurling him away from his victim. Stunned, he slid across the floor, only just managing to halt himself before he cannoned head first into one of the stone tables. An incredulous snarl ripped from his throat as he jerked himself around to identify his attacker. No-one had ever dared to lay hands on him before, no matter what he did. Whoever it was, he was going to make sure they were very, _very_ sorry for interrupting his game.

To his utter surprise, he saw a good-looking young man with wavy, dark hair, dressed in the standard Prydonian Academy tunic and trousers. The newcomer's head was down, his intent gaze lowered to his own hands. He was flexing his fingers rhythmically, as if he was testing them, to see what they could do. In that moment of recognition, the odd, deliberate movement struck Anzor as peculiarly menacing.

"Oakdown!" Anzor spat furiously, disregarding the inexplicable frisson of apprehension that clawed up his spine, a preternatural feeling that something was very wrong. "What in Rassilon's name do you think you're doing?"

As much as he despised Koschei Oakdown, he knew he had to be careful how he handled the other boy. It was one thing to torment and persecute Theta Sigma – he might be a descendant of one of the Great Houses, but his family had no wealth or political influence, and were therefore unimportant in the scheme of things. The House of Oakdown, on the other hand, was staggeringly rich and possessed immense power. Not only that, Koschei's father was a ruthless and autocratic man who had no hesitation in using both wealth and power to get whatever he wanted. Upsetting him wasn't a good idea, no matter who you were. So while Koschei had never dared to openly cross President Drall's son, Anzor had always been equally wary of instigating outright conflict with the heir of Oakdown, the stand-off resulting in what had ended up becoming an uneasy truce between the two boys. In fact, it was only Theta's close friendship with Koschei that had protected him from some of Anzor's more severe and permanent forms of bullying over the years.

But whatever understanding they had previously possessed now seemed to be at an end. When Koschei raised his head, his face was taut with sheer, animalistic rage. Anzor found himself drawing in an involuntary gasp. He had seen Oakdown angry before, but never like this. And...it was difficult to tell for sure in the purple moonlight...but was there something..._strange_...about his eyes...?

"I've come to take back what's mine," Koschei said coldly.

The voice was wrong too. It was older, somehow - flat and sure, lethally confident, with no sign of a boy's bravado – the voice of a man who had seen and done it all, a man who now had no limits or scruples whatsoever.

Unsure what was going on, Anzor's gaze fell to the small, crumpled body lying on the floor behind Koschei. _To take back what was his...?_ Was he talking about the servant girl? Anzor had taunted her about sleeping with Koschei, never really believing it for a moment. The arrogant heir of Oakdown would never stoop to taking a servant to his bed, that just wasn't who he was. But what if it had been true after all? What if Kat belonged not to Theta, as he had assumed, but to Koschei?

Anzor felt sudden anger flooding through his veins, energising him, blasting aside his momentary confusion. It didn't matter what Oakdown's problem was. The only important fact here was that the other boy was ruining his fun and he couldn't be allowed to get away with that.

"You'd better leave, if you know what's good for you," he growled. "This is twice you've interfered with me lately. I think you've forgotten who you're dealing with."

"Oh, I remember you, _Anzor_," Koschei sneered. "It's been a very long time since I last saw you, but I've forgotten nothing."

Anzor narrowed his eyes to hostile slits. "What are you talking about, Oakdown? I only just saw you at dinner time. Is this some kind of joke, some sort of pathetic attempt at payback? Are you and Lungbarrow trying to make me look stupid?"

The dark-haired boy threw back his head and laughed. Anzor shifted uneasily as the sound echoed around the silent room. It sounded nothing like Koschei's usual laughter. It was cold and bitter and mocking, empty of any emotion except hate. "Why would I bother doing that? You always did such a good job of it yourself."

The insult seemed to hang in the air, a deliberate and inescapable provocation. Anzor flicked his wrist and the galvaniser extended to full length at his side, the lethal flickers of energy coiling up and down the gleaming blue rod.

"You're going to be very sorry you said that. I warned you to leave, but you wouldn't listen, would you? Who the hell do you think you are, you little shit? You might be the heir of Oakdown, but I'm the Lord President's son. No-one makes a fool out of me, _no-one_!"

The other boy took a step forward, every movement lithe and deadly. "Who am I? I'm the _Master_, you idiot. And you, Anzor, have just made the colossal mistake of threatening to harm _my_ _wife_. Now you're going to die." The calm, impassive certainty in his voice was utterly chilling.

The _Master_? His _wife_? Anzor had no idea what the other boy was babbling about, none of his words seemed to make any sense at all. But the look on his face and the unrelenting tone of his voice made one thing perfectly clear. This was no joke. Whatever insanity was driving him, however unlikely it seemed, Koschei Oakdown had really come here with the intention of killing him.

He dropped into a fighter's crouch, his weapon brandished before him. If only one of them was destined to walk away from this confrontation, Anzor was determined it was going to be him. After all, Koschei was half his size and unarmed. It was going to be child's play to annihilate him.

"I'm going to enjoy this!" he hissed. "It's been coming for a very, very long time. I'm going to kill you, right here, right now. After that, I'm going to do whatever I like to the girl, for as long as I like, and then I'll kill her too. And when the Guard arrive, I'll tell them how Koschei Oakdown went mad and started murdering servant girls, how I had to kill him to make him stop. I'll get away with it too, because there's not a single person who would dare to challenge the word of the Lord President's son. I'll be a hero. And once you're gone, it'll be open season on Theta Sigma next, together with that pathetic little crew you call the Deca."

Koschei took another step forward. Now that he was closer, Anzor could see the burning brown ring encircling each of the navy blue irises of his eyes. He stared, fascinated, unable to tear his gaze away. Those strange brown rings...he had never seen anything like them before. As he watched, they seemed to turn, slowly at first, but then spinning faster and faster, like the Time Vortex itself, a sucking whirlpool of brown and blue. To his horror, he realised he couldn't move. He was fixed in place, like a fly in amber.

_I am the Master and you will obey me, _a cold voice said inside his head.

He tried to fight it, desperately trying to use the cognitive defence theories he had learned in class to reclaim his mind. But it was useless. He had never been very good at his coursework, rarely bothering to study, confident that his family connections would get him through. And he had never come across anything like the awesome strength of the will that opposed him. It was centuries old, rich in skill and experience. And it was black with fury.

_You know what to do._

His hand rose of its own accord, bringing the galvaniser with it. Without conscious thought, still staring blankly into those hypnotic eyes, he telescoped the weapon down to its shortest length.

_Do it now._

Unable to stop himself, he touched the glittering rod to his own shoulder, releasing a searing bolt of energy that stabbed through him with eviscerating pain. He screeched in agony. So many other creatures had felt the harrowing bite of his favourite weapon, but he had never experienced it for himself. Now he felt what they had all felt. He wanted to writhe in torment, but those terrible eyes held him, denying him any relief.

_Again._

The other shoulder, this time, another blast of agony administered by his own hand. All his muscles twitching and dancing in unendurable pain. Dimly, he was aware that Koschei was smiling - a hard, cruel, vengeful smile he had never seen before.

_More. Show me what you were going to do to my wife._

Over and over again, all across his body, piercing bolts of torment, never enough to kill, just enough to torture. His body was racked with convulsions. Somewhere in the middle of it all, he lost control of his bladder, a hot, humiliating stream of urine pouring down the inside leg of his trousers. He tried to move his lips, to form them into words, the same begging, pleading words he had heard so often from his own victims, but his entire face seemed to have turned to rubber and he couldn't make his mouth work. And still his own hand moved like a puppet, dancing the scorching rod across his skin, searching for new places to flay and excoriate.

_Enough, _the contemptuous voice commanded inside his head. _I'm getting bored now. End it – oh, and don't bother to regenerate, either._

_NO_, Anzor thought in soul-shattering terror, as his hand involuntarily lifted the galvaniser and placed it in his own mouth. _This can't be happening! I can't die like this!_

Summoning all his strength for one last, futile effort, he pushed back against the iron will controlling his body, striving to tear his gaze away from the whirling brown and blue vortex. To his shock, the connection suddenly seemed to draw taut and then snap, unexpectedly releasing him. Koschei staggered backwards, his hands flying to his head in some kind of seizure.

"Not now!" he howled furiously. "NOT NOW!"

Anzor was not overly gifted with intelligence, but he recognised a miracle when he saw one. He didn't stick around to find out what had happened to save him. Scrabbling like an ungainly crab, drunk on the adrenaline of fear, he forced his spasming muscles to work and slithered towards the door. Koschei made no move to stop him. He was down on his knees by now, still clutching fiercely at his skull, as if there was a war raging inside his head.

Shaking violently and uncontrollably, Anzor managed to lurch out into the corridor and escaped to safety, sobbing like a baby.

* * *

_One...two...three...four... _

_One...two...three...four..._

_One...two...three...four..._

The drums were pounding inside Koschei's brain, the eternal, repetitive beat that had shaped his life since he was a child. Grimly, he held on to the sound, using it to guide his way back through the mists inside his head. Something had forced him out, held him at the peripheral edges of his mind, like a hostage inside his own body. But whatever it was, it didn't like the drums, shying away from the sound as though it burned. By concentrating on the steady beat, wielding it like a weapon, he'd finally managed to free himself.

Opening his navy blue eyes, he looked around him, blinking as he tried to focus. He was kneeling on the stone floor of the Refectory and he had no idea how he had got there. The last thing he properly remembered was playing Sepulchasm with Drax in the Deca common room. A movement near the door caught his attention and he glanced around just in time to see Anzor stagger out of the room, an expression of glazed terror written across his face. The President's son had been reeling and stumbling, all his limbs twitching spastically, as if he could barely control them.

_What the hell had just happened?_

Then he saw the small broken figure lying motionlessly nearby.

"Kat!" he exclaimed, sickness rising in him as he realised that Anzor had been playing his sadistic games again and that she had been his unwitting victim. "KAT!"

He threw himself across to her on his hands and knees, dreading what he would find. She was a mess, her beautiful hair tangled all around her and her dress torn almost to shreds. Her eyes were closed and blood was smeared across the lower part of her pale face. He could see the glaring mark on her shoulder where Anzor had tortured her with his infernal galvaniser. But to his relief, she was still breathing.

"Kat!" he called again. "Kat, can you hear me? Are you all right?"

Her eyelids flickered and slowly opened and her dazed green eyes looked up at him. A tiny, bewildered frown creased her forehead. Painfully, she raised her hand and touched his face, almost curiously, as if she was trying to determine whether he was real.

"Koschei..." she murmured in a slurred voice. "Whatchoo doing...out've the...pic...ture?"

"What picture?" he asked urgently. But the clouds of drowsiness were already returning to her eyes and he could tell she was slipping away from him. He gave her a gentle shake. "Come on, Kat, stay with me here. What happened? What picture are you talking about?"

"Ushas's picture," she sighed, her eyes fluttering closed again. "You looked so handsome...so...handsome..."

Her voice trailed away and he caught her hand as it fell back to her side. She was obviously delirious, he thought in concern, looking down at her unconscious face. Ushas had been talking about painting a portrait of him and Theta for ages. Perhaps Theta had mentioned it to Kat, for some reason. But Ushas had never got around to doing it, and he didn't expect she ever would, especially with the way she and Theta had been fighting lately.

The small, delicate fingers were icy cold in his. He needed to get her somewhere warm, right now, that was his first priority. The Academy Sanatorium was out of the question, given Anzor's involvement. And he didn't know where her room was – somewhere in the servant's quarters, he presumed, an area of the Academy he had never set foot in. So there was only one possible alternative. Sliding his arms beneath her, he lifted her and carried her towards the door.

* * *

The inside of the Pandorica glowed with a cold, blue light. The Doctor supposed he should be grateful that they hadn't been left completely in the dark, but he wasn't entirely sure that the glacial illumination was much of an improvement.

He and the Master sat with their chairs positioned at a forty-five degree angle within the enclosed space, with the Doctor's right knee nearly touching the Master's left. The two Time Lords glared at each other.

"Well, this has to be the definition of hell," the Master snarled. "Trapped for eternity with _you_."

The Doctor struggled uselessly against his restraints. "I have to say, the prospect doesn't exactly thrill me either," he retorted. "And you did bring it on yourself, so you can hardly complain. Quite frankly, I can't believe you didn't see that one coming, it was as obvious as the nose on Rory's face. I don't suppose you thought to build in some sort of escape hatch as a contingency plan, just in case?"

"What, and have you find it and escape, so you could ruin everything, the way you always do?" the Master sneered. "I don't think so."

The Doctor gave an audible sigh. "No, I suppose that would be too much to hope for."

"So what do we do now? Just sit around and chat about old times?"

"We could do that, I suppose," the Doctor agreed absently, running his eyes carefully around the inside of their prison, busily searching for some kind of idea that he could use to escape. "Except that there's one small, teeny-tiny, eeny-weeny little problem."

"What problem?"

The Doctor's blue-green eyes swung back to meet the other Time Lord's brown ones, his gaze suddenly as hard and implacable as granite. "We don't have any old times. Because you're not the Master."

* * *

The door to Koschei's room slid open at his touch and he stepped carefully inside, the senseless girl still in his arms. Luckily, due to the lateness of the hour, he hadn't encountered anyone as he made his way through the senior accommodation wing. He wasn't quite sure what explanation he could have offered if he had. The heir of Oakdown, caught carrying an injured and unconscious servant girl to his bedroom, her clothes torn to pieces. Oh yeah, his father would just _love _that.

From what he could tell, Kat wasn't seriously hurt. What she badly needed was time to rest, to allow her damaged nerve-endings to recover from the assault from the galvaniser. However, now that he had arrived in the sanctuary of his room, he hovered over the bed, strangely reluctant to put her down. She felt unbelievably good in his arms, the warmth and softness of her slender body cuddled so closely against him. The honeysuckle scent of her hair lingered around him, a wild, sweet fragrance that set his pulses racing, a streak of unnerving desire quivering through him.

Forcing himself with some difficulty to focus on the task at hand, he pulled back the covers and laid her down, settling her comfortably on to the bed. Then he hurried into the bathroom and came back with some warm water and a cloth. Gently, and a bit awkwardly, he bathed her face, wiping away the blood and tears. Her lower lip was swollen and there were nasty bruises forming on her throat. It looked like Anzor had tried to choke her. Koschei could feel a murderous fury rising inside him. He didn't know exactly what had happened, but he would find out - and this time he would make sure Anzor didn't get away with it, Lord President's son or not.

Before he could straighten, her hands caught at his arms and clung to him. "Koschei...no, don't leave me again, please..."

"It's all right," he soothed, startled by the vulnerability and the need in her voice. Her eyes were still far from lucid. Even though she was using his name, he wasn't entirely convinced that it was him she was speaking to. "I'm not going anywhere. You have to rest."

"I can't rest without you..." she said fretfully. "Please hold me, Koschei...I need you to hold me."

He hesitated, torn by uncertainty. He had never been in a situation like this before. Chivalry and protectiveness towards the vulnerable was Theta's thing, not his. Usually, if a woman was in Koschei Oakdown's bed, it was for one thing and one thing only. He wanted Kat far too much for his own good - it was a sweet, savage, unquenchable ache inside him, even now. He wasn't sure he would be able to hold her without taking her, and after Anzor's frenzied sexual attack, that was the last thing she needed.

Perhaps he should go and get Theta. His friend would know what to do, he always did. But the idea of _Theta _holding her, comforting her...a hard, tight jealousy coiled in his gut. No, that solution wasn't even close to being acceptable.

She stirred restlessly, her hands tightening in desperate entreaty. "Please..."

Knowing he was being a fool, but unable to resist, he slid on to the bed beside her and gathered her into his arms, feeling her warmth sink into his bones as he pulled the covers over both of them. She gave a small sigh of relief and curled into his body, as though it was where she belonged.

Reaching up to the wall behind them, he passed his hand over the light control, dimming the room until the only illumination came from the beautiful holographic model suspended in the corner – a model that now showed Gallifrey shining alone in isolated splendor, surrounded only by her two slowly orbiting moons.

* * *

Not far away, Anzor collapsed on to his own bed, cursing and panting with effort. None of his extremities were working properly, all his muscles screaming in pain as each one seemed to dance in a different direction to all the others. Rage and humiliation boiled in his veins. The damage to his body wasn't permanent and was already beginning to heal. But the damage to his ego and reputation was incalculable. If news of his ignominious defeat got out, every little upstart in the Academy would think they could defy him. Somehow, he had to redress the balance. Somehow, he had to destroy Koschei Oakdown, utterly and completely, so that there was no question in anyone's mind which of them was the victor.

But that could wait until tomorrow. For now, he had to sleep and regain his strength. His door was triple dead-locked. Whatever Oakdown had planned, he was safe here, his security was impregnable. Breathing deeply, he willed his mind to calm and his tortured body to relax, easing himself into a healing slumber.

The darkness of sleep surged around him like a river, carrying him gently along on its peaceful current. Until his eyes suddenly opened again and he jerked upright in surprise. A man he had never seen before sat at the end of the bed, his back against the wall. He had tousled ash-blonde hair and he was dressed all in black. Slowly, he turned his head and looked at Anzor. His face was thin, with hard, arrogant features and cold brown eyes.

"Who the hell are you?" Anzor demanded.

"Not very good at paying attention, are you, Anzor?" the stranger said in a level voice. "No wonder you used to fail all your classes. We've just been through all this, back in the Refectory. I really hate being interrupted when I'm catching up with old friends, don't you?"

Anzor's eyes widened, his pupils dilating in fear. Incredible as it seemed, he did recognise the Time Lord in front of him, even though his appearance was radically different. "O...Oakdown?"

"Yeah, I was once Koschei Oakdown, a very long time ago," the man confirmed. "But now I'm known as the Master."

Anzor's throat went dry and he swallowed hard. The fear inside him was building now, rapidly escalating towards terror. "No, that's not possible, you can't be from the future...the Fourth Law of Time..."

The Master gave a savage, bitter laugh. "Trust me, in my day, the laws of dear old Gallifrey aren't exactly relevant any more. And, after this, you won't need to worry about them either."

The deadly promise in his voice was more than evident.

"How...how did you get in here? The door was dead-locked from the inside!" Anzor shrieked, frantically searching for a way to escape, but unable to find one.

"Oh, I'm sorry, didn't I say? This is a dream," the Master grinned. "You just keep on making mistakes, Anzor. You should never have gone to sleep. Because, right now, dreams are _my_ domain. And I think we have some unfinished business to settle, don't we?"

With that, he began crawling up the bed towards the terrified young Time Lord.

And deep in the heart of the Prydonian Academy, the hideous screams of Anzor, son of Lord President Drall, tore the night into shreds.


	10. Chapter 10

**_Author's Note: _**

**_Hello, ladies and gentlemen. Sorry for slight delay posting this one, busy weekend. Thanks very much to the following lovely people who boosted my dwindling ego about a thousand percent by leaving me some feedback - gallifrey calls now, Theta'sWorstNightmare, SawManiac211, MountainLord-92, EmmaMarie, Ahsilaa, TheWickedHeart, MayFairy, TheGreatWhite, sailormajinmoon, Lost Moon, Imorgen, EDZEL2 (x 2), BLEACH IT WHITE, Guest (x 5) and Aietradaea (x 5)._**

**_ To sailormajinmoon: Thanks so much for the review, very glad you enjoyed how Anzor got taken down by the Master. Koschei is already a little suspicious of 'Kat', as you will see in this chapter. I appreciate your ongoing support more than I can say :)_  
**

**_To Lost Moon: Thanks again, as always, you are terrific. As you have requested, here is more, LOL :)  
_**

**_To guest: I totally appreciate the effort you have taken to catch up, when you are obviously very busy. Makes me feel very warm and fuzzy inside - thank you :)  
_**

**_I've had a couple of people ask me how River ended up with Hart's vortex manipulator (as described in Chapter Eight). This story assumes that people have prior knowledge of the episodes "The Pandorica Opens" and "The Big Bang", so I'm sorry if I didn't make that bit clear. At the beginning of "The Pandorica Opens", River is shown purchasing a vortex manipulator from Dorian. Dorian's assistant hands it to him in a box and he tells River that it's "fresh off the wrist of a handsome Time Agent". Then he looks into the box and grimaces, saying "I said OFF the wrist!", at which point he hands the box back to his assistant, presumably to remove the device from the severed wrist of it's previous owner. In my story, I have implied that the wrist-strap belonged to Hart, and therefore at some time in the future, he will do something reckless (who, Hart? Surely not, I hear you say!) and get his wrist sliced off with his vortex manipulator on it, which is how it ends up with River. So it's just another instance of me slotting back in with canon :)  
_**

**_Okay, after that lengthy preamble, here we go... please enjoy!  
_**

* * *

**- Chapter Ten -**

"_This is the beginning...the stars are going out like candles, Danny Jane!_

_Make a wish! Make a wish! Make a wish!" _

_- Hour of Arrival, Year Zero, Nine Inch Nails_

* * *

_Your name is Rory Williams. You are from Leadworth. You are Amy Pond's boyfriend..._

The young centurion said the words over and over again in his mind - the last, precious words she had said to him - as if they were a magic spell that could somehow change everything that had just happened, as if he could somehow use them to bring her back. But the slender figure lying in his arms still didn't move, her eyes closed and her beloved face empty of everything that had once made her so uniquely Amy.

_My name is Rory Williams. I'm a monster with a gun instead of a hand. And I have just murdered the woman I love more than life itself._

He wanted to scream his fury and his pain and his grief to the heavens, but he couldn't, because there were no heavens left. One by one, all the stars had winked out, leaving nothing behind but the eternal curtain of night.

So he sat on the cold ground with his back against a log and held her close to the place his heart used to be when he truly was Rory Williams from Leadworth. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. All that was left for him to do was to numbly wait for whatever came next. Because, whatever it was, without her, it just wouldn't matter.

"So, the Universe ended..." he said conversationally, as if she could still hear him. "You missed that. In 102 AD. I suppose this means that you and I never get born at all. Twice, in my case."

He paused, stroking a lock of red hair back from her pale face. "You would have laughed at that." His voice cracked and broke in anguish. "_Please _laugh." But deep inside, he knew he would never hear her laugh again, never hear her call him 'Stupid-face', never feel her lips against his. He trailed his eyes upwards in despair. Overhead, the sky seemed to yawn emptily. "The Doctor said the Universe was huge and ridiculous, and sometimes there were miracles. I could do with a ridiculous miracle right about now."

Suddenly, as though speaking his name had summoned him, there was a flash of light and the Doctor appeared right in front of him. Rory's jaw dropped in utter astonishment. The Time Lord was wearing red fez on his head and had a ragged mop in his hands.

"Rory! Listen, she's not dead!" he exclaimed breathlessly. "Well, she is dead, but it's not the end of the world. Well, it is the end of the world. Actually, it's the end of the Universe. Oh no! Hang on!"

With that, he tapped sharply a few times on a watch-like device strapped to his wrist and disappeared. Rory blinked, left wondering if the Time Lord had really been there, or if he was just seeing things.

"Doctor? Doctor!"

Another flash of light glared in the darkness and the Doctor was back, this time without the mop.

"You need to get me out of the Pandorica," he said, apparently picking up their conversation where he had left off, despite the fact that he had just vanished in the middle of it.

Rory stared at him in confusion, feeling that - yet again - he was a long way behind the eight ball, something he had become resigned to long ago when it came to dealing with the Doctor. "But you're not in the Pandorica."

"Yes, I am. Well, I'm not now, but I was back then. Well, back now from your point of view, which is back then from my point of view. Time travel, you can't keep it straight in your head." Reaching into his pocket, the Doctor withdrew his sonic screwdriver and handed it to Rory. "Here, you can use this to open it from the outside."

"No, I can't," Rory protested in alarm. "I've got no idea how to make it work."

"Don't worry about that," the Doctor replied. "There's a man waiting down there who will help you. He's a bit of an ass...well, when I say a bit of an ass, what I really mean is, a lot of an ass...but he does grow on you. Kind of like a foot fungus, really... Anyway, the point is, he's an ex-Time Agent, so he knows about temporal technology. You might need to make a bit of effort to convince him at first, but you'll work it out. Now go."

Before Rory could ask anything further, the Time Lord had vanished. The young centurion looked blankly at the sonic screwdriver in his hand. The Doctor was his friend. He supposed he owed it to him to do what he could, even if he was finding it difficult to care about anything except Amy's body cooling in his arms.

Then the Doctor popped up for the third time, reminding Rory uncomfortably of a particularly manic jack-in-the-box. "Oh, and when you're done, leave my screwdriver in her top pocket. Good luck!"

"What do you mean? Done _what_?" Rory demanded.

But by then he was merely talking to thin air, because – predictably enough - the Doctor had gone again.

* * *

Tejana stirred briefly, burying her head even more deeply in the soft pillow. A muffled groan came from her lips as consciousness slowly returned. Her entire body seemed to be nothing more than one big tangle of aches and pains from top to bottom. She felt like she had been trampled by a herd of rabid elephants. Even worse, her brain seemed to have temporarily shut down, because she couldn't even remember the cause of her injuries. Whatever it was, from the awful way she felt, it must have been bad.

Groggily, she realised there were arms wrapped tightly around her from behind. A wave of relief filled her and she felt herself immediately relaxing. If the Master was holding her, she knew she was safe now. He would never allow any harm to come to her. She had long ago given up wondering at the irony of it – that the one place in the Universe she felt safest of all was in the arms of a psychopathic megalomaniac murderer. Some things just defied explanation.

Biting her lip against the pain, she turned over to nestle even closer to him, seeking to soothe her hurts with the familiar heat of his body. He welcomed her to him, shifting his position to accommodate her, his knee slipping intimately between her thighs to bring them closer together. She could feel his hand stroking slowly through her hair, caressing the heavy locks back from her face, until she sighed in contentment. It was strange, though – their bodies seemed to fit together differently from what she was used to, as if he was somehow...taller. Her eyes flicked open. To her shock, the eyes that gazed back at her were not whiskey-brown, as she was expecting, but deep navy-blue.

In that instant, three pieces of information blazed into her memory, piercing her befogged brain like three bullets fired from a high-trajectory rifle. Firstly, she was on Gallifrey. Secondly, she was supposed to be impersonating a servant. And thirdly – here, the hyper-ventilating panic rose inside her, like an elevator rocketing towards the top floor - _thirdly_, she was most definitely, totally, absolutely _not _supposed to be in Koschei Oakdown's bed.

"Good morning, Kat," he said, his voice low and lazy, and yet somehow challenging, as though he could read the consternation in her face.

"L...Lord Koschei," she stammered, doing her best to hold on to her innocent servant's facade, while frantically racking her brain to work out how she had ended up in this most dangerous of places. "What...happened?"

"Anzor happened," he said grimly. "He cornered you in the Refectory. Don't you remember?"

As soon as he said it, she did remember. The crazed look in Anzor's eyes, her desperate struggle to escape, the savage bite of the galvaniser... she drew in a sharp, painful breath as it all came flooding back. "I remember..." she whispered shakily. She couldn't recall Koschei being there, but since she was still largely in one piece, she assumed he must have arrived in time to stop the other Time Lord before he could hurt her too badly. "Thank you...for saving me."

Koschei frowned. "I wish I could take the credit. But he was already running away when I first saw him. I'm not sure what happened before that." His hand stilled in her hair. "Did he...do anything to you?"

The dark, taut tone in his voice made it perfectly obvious what he was asking.

"No, my Lord," she replied. "He...hurt me...with his galvaniser. But that's all."

She felt his hand move to her shoulder, pushing aside the torn fragments of her dress to examine her wound. A quiver of sensual awareness pulsed through her as he gently brushed her naked skin. His fingers were long and slender, a direct contrast to the squarer, more compact hands of his older self. But in many ways, his touch felt exactly the same, deft and sure and confident, with that same undercurrent of barely-leashed power. And, much to her alarm, with exactly the same ability to make her forget everything in the Universe except the heat of his nearness.

"It looks a lot better this morning," he said. "You heal quickly, Kat."

She flushed. Naturally, her injuries were rapidly repairing themselves. She was a Time Lady and she was very early in her current regeneration cycle. Not only that, she was here on her home planet, in close proximity to the Eye of Harmony, the source of all the Time Lord's power. In less than twenty four hours, all traces of Anzor's attack would most likely be gone. But Koschei couldn't be allowed to realise that. Kat the Shabogan servant girl would never heal that quickly, if at all. If she had truly been the person she pretended to be, she should have been damaged for life. She had to get out of here, right now, before he started to think too much about the inconsistencies in her story.

"I have to go," she gasped, trying to sit up. "I shouldn't be here with you...like this..."

But he merely shifted his body weight a fraction, ensuring she was pinned against the bed and couldn't move. "That's not what you said last night," he said, a small grin pulling at the corners of his mouth. "Last night, you begged me to hold you."

Tejana felt her stomach drop. "I...did?"

"Oh yes, you did."

_Oh gods, what had she done? _In her confusion, she'd obviously thought she was with her own version of the Master. But what else had she let slip? Carefully, she probed her mental defences. Thankfully, they appeared to be intact. Subconsciously, she had continued to protect herself, shielding her mind from the psychic link, even throughout her ordeal and its aftermath.

"Did I...say anything else?" she quavered.

"Just something about a picture of me painted by Lady Ushas." His eyes narrowed, searching her face. "How did you know about that, Kat? Ushas hasn't even started painting it yet. Did Theta tell you?"

Tejana felt trickles of apprehension sliding down her spine. This conversation was turning into a treacherous minefield. It would be easy enough to say that Theta had mentioned the picture. But somehow, she sensed that wasn't what Koschei wanted to hear. There was a subtle undertone of jealousy in his voice that warned her that talking about Theta right now wasn't a good idea.

"I'm a servant, my Lord," she murmured, remembering Dyoni's words about the staff knowing everything that happened within the Academy and seizing on the explanation. "People speak freely in front of servants. I must have heard it mentioned somewhere."

"You're not exactly a typical servant though, are you, Kat? There's something very different about you." His hand was moving again, smoothing sensuously through her hair. His lips lowered to whisper in her ear. "I love your hair. It's beautiful."

At his words, the tension between them turned raw, as tight as a wire. _I know you do, _she thought, her double pulse beginning to thunder in her ears. _You always will. _Closing her eyes, she tried to fight back the pleasure, knowing she had to stop this. But stopping him wasn't something she had ever been very good at. Before she could do anything, his mouth was on hers. He was surprisingly gentle, taking care not to hurt her lower lip, still swollen from where Anzor had struck her. Nonetheless, despite his care, he made very sure he got precisely what he wanted. Her lips parted with a gasp and he surged between them, ruthlessly taking and claiming her mouth and demanding even more from her. He might be centuries younger than the man who would one day father her baby, but he knew exactly what he was doing. The kiss was urgent and passionate, the hot tangle of their tongues commanding her complete attention. Deep inside, she felt something yield; something primal, unfurling and reacting; something that couldn't think, but only wanted and needed and _ached_.

Exerting the little that was left of her willpower, she struggled to draw back from the brink, fighting the compulsion that burned in her blood. She couldn't allow this to happen, no matter how much she wanted it. Pushing at his shoulders, she managed to drag her mouth away from his.

"I can't!" she gasped. "Please, I _can't_!"

"Why?" he growled, his breathing harsh and ragged with desire. "We both know you want to."

Wildly, she cast around for something to say that would make him let her go, before she gave in and begged him to do whatever he wanted. "I'm already promised!"

She felt his body tense angrily against hers. "To who?"

"To a man back where I come from," she replied, truthfully enough.

"What? In_ Low Town_?" he scoffed, contempt lacing through his voice, as if nobody in their right mind could consider that a binding commitment.

Her eyes flashed at the arrogance in his tone. "And what's wrong with that?" Did he really think that casual sex with him was preferable to an honourable marriage, just because he was a high-and-mighty Time Lord and she was nothing more than a lowly servant girl? Surely even the Heir of Oakdown couldn't be that conceited. But one look at the cold expression on his face quickly convinced her that he could.

"And is he a good man?" he inquired sarcastically.

"No," she replied, her temper rising. As much as she loved the Master, 'good' was not a term she would ever use to describe him, under any circumstances, not then and not now. She'd forgotten how childish he could be when he didn't get his own way – something else which clearly hadn't altered over the years. "He's not. He never has been and he never will be. But he _is_ good to me."

"How good?" he snarled, crushing her to him in an iron grip. "_This _good?"

With that, he took her mouth again, not bothering to be gentle this time. He tasted of suppressed rage and jealousy, together with dark, frustrated desire. Holding on to her anger, Tejana refused to give him the satisfaction of reacting, concentrating on the pain instead, and using it to steel herself against the white-hot effect he had on her. Eventually he raised his head and looked down at her, his blue eyes hard and stormy at her lack of response.

She stared back at him, keeping her gaze calm and steady. "Please, I need to go now, Lord Koschei," she said, her tone as cool and correct and deferential as any other servant, doing her best to conceal the heated ache he had ignited inside her. "I thank you for your help, but they'll be looking for me soon."

It was a pointed reminder that neither of them could afford to be caught in such a compromising position – a reminder even he couldn't ignore. For a moment, he hesitated, fury darkening his eyes. But then he rolled away from her on to his back, putting his hands under his head. Deprived of his body heat, she felt suddenly cold and inexplicably miserable.

"Fine," he said, his handsome face unreadable, his dark hair tousled across his brow. She wanted to reach out and brush it back, but she didn't dare. "Go then. _Now_. Before I change my mind."

Shakily, she managed to climb out of the bed, every inch of her body protesting in pain from her injuries. She wasn't sure she could make it to the door, but she knew she had to. Staying here was far too dangerous. She was halfway across the room when she heard him snap out, "Wait!"

Tensing with apprehension, but unsurprised, she turned back to face him. She should have known he would never give up that easily, just as his older self never would.

"You can't go out there dressed like that," he said, sitting up and lithely getting to his feet. Looking down at herself, she realised what he was talking about. The jagged tears in the front of her servant's dress left her small, high breasts almost completely exposed. Feeling his eyes travelling over her, a tide of humiliated colour flooded her face.

He picked up a plain black tunic from the back of a chair and, with two quick strides, crossed over to her. "Here. Put this on."

Without protest, she allowed him to slip the tunic over her head. It was made of a soft velvety material and was much too large for her. As she pushed the sleeves up her arms, she noticed that the cuffs were beautifully stitched with tiny golden oak trees, the ancient sigil of the House of Oakdown.

Standing close behind her, Koschei watched her fingers trace over the delicate embroidery. "Do you know what the motto of my House is, Kat?" he asked huskily. Then, as she remained stubbornly silent, he continued, "No? It's 'To have and to hold.' Once an Oakdown takes something, he never lets it go. Maybe that's something you should keep in mind."

_Oh, it's too late for that, amin Mehkil, _she thought ruefully. _Much, much too late._

Before he could do anything else to stop her, she activated the door control and escaped out into the corridor, wishing with both her hearts that she felt more relieved and much less bereft at leaving him behind.

* * *

After prowling around for a while longer, Captain John Hart decided he had exhausted the possibilities of the underground cavern. Neither Tejana or the Master were here and there was no indication that they ever had been. Of course, he had the vortex manipulator he had found in River's bag. He didn't have to wait around here, twiddling his thumbs, until the rest of Team TARDIS turned up in their own sweet time. But he'd be willing to bet an Arcadian diamond that Tejana had managed to get herself into some sort of trouble yet again and _someone_ had to get her out of it, particularly if Blondie wasn't around to do it. Why that someone should be him was an issue he chose not to examine too closely, since it implied that he might actually care what happened to the feisty little pocket rocket, something he wasn't about to admit, even to himself. No, his curiosity was aroused, that was all it was...especially now he knew River Song was involved somewhere. Now _there _was one hell of a woman – fierce, sexy, fascinating, intriguing, mysterious - he'd never thought he would see her again, but now that the opportunity was here, he couldn't pass it up. That was the thing about travelling with Time Lords, he reflected with a grin, it was never boring. He was beginning to learn to expect the unexpected.

He drew the blaster pistol and headed towards the double doors, intending to explore further afield. But before he had got any further than the dusty passageway, he heard footsteps descending the stone stairs leading to what he guessed was the outside world. For a spine-tingling moment, he hoped it might be River, returning to claim her property. The idea of her literally walking into his arms, completely unprepared, was an extremely attractive one. However, his keen hearing discounted that tantalising scenario almost immediately. It was a man, wearing some sort of clanking armour. Whoever he was, he wasn't making any attempt at stealth at all.

Moving as silently as a shadow, Hart retreated back into the cavern and concealed himself behind the big, grey cube. A figure appeared in the doorway. It appeared to be a Roman centurion, dressed in a traditional bronze breast-plate, red cloak and a war skirt made of heavily-studded leather strips. He wasn't particularly large, but he was armed with a long, lethal-looking sword, which wasn't unexpected for a soldier of his time. What was unexpected, however, was the sophisticated-looking tool he held in his hand. Hart's eyes narrowed as he spotted the anomaly. It looked like he would have to make sure he didn't kill this soldier – there were definitely some interesting questions to which he needed answers. Assuming, of course, the translation circuits in the wrist-strap were working properly. Hart wasn't sure his Ancient Latin was quite up to asking a Roman what the hell he was doing walking around with a sonic device.

To his surprise, the young man stepped forward and called out, in very colloquial 21st-Century English, "Helloooooo. Anybody there? My name's Rory Williams. The Doctor sent me? He said there'd be someone here to help me."

Hart remained perfectly still, hardly even daring to breathe. Was the centurion talking to him? But how could the boy know he was here? _He_ hadn't even known he was going to be here until a few minutes ago. And the Doctor sent him? What _Doctor_? Was he talking about Tejana's father?

The young man listened intently, but apparently heard nothing but the echoing silence of the cavern. His shoulders hunched in despair. Crossing the room with leaden steps, he slumped wearily to the ground in front of the enormous grey cube.

"Great," he muttered, putting his head in his hands. "Just perfect. There's no-one here. Thanks very much, Doctor. Now what am I supposed to do?"

Moving like a cat, Hart seized the opportunity to sneak up behind him. The young centurion stiffened in shock as he felt the blaster pistol nudge him under the ear.

"Now, I really like a man in uniform, so it would be a really big shame if I had to kill you," Hart warned in a velvet voice. "But believe me, kid, I will if I have to."

The centurion cautiously slanted a look up at his face. "Rory," he said flatly.

"Huh?"

"My name...it's Rory, not _kid_." There was no fear in the young man's eyes, just a faint contempt, as if nothing Hart did could possibly matter. "And you're the ass, right? Not too difficult to figure that one out, really."

Hart's eyebrows rose incredulously. "I'm the _what_?"

"The ass," Rory repeated. "Up on the surface, my friend the Doctor just told me I'd find a man down here who was a bit of a ass, but who would be able to help me. I'm guessing that would be you."

"Sorry to disappoint you, kid," Hart said dismissively. "But I'm not here to help anyone except myself. Let's make this quick and simple, all right? I'm looking for two friends of mine. One's a tiny little red-head – she's so small she looks a bit like a lawn ornament, only much prettier. The other is a bloke with white-blonde hair and a really bad attitude, dressed all in black. Have you seen either of them?"

"I haven't seen the bloke, but the girl was here earlier, to see the Doctor."

Hart tensed, pressing the gun more firmly against Rory's neck. "What happened to her?"

The young centurion shrugged. "I don't know. She disappeared. One minute she was here, then she was gone. The Doctor seemed to think she might have fallen through a crack in time."

"_What?_" Hart exploded, alarm spreading through his veins. A crack in time? He had no idea what that meant, but whatever it was, it didn't sound positive. Damn and blast it, what had that little hell-cat gone and got herself into now? "Where is this Doctor? Still up on the surface?"

Rory quirked his thumb towards the box. "He's in there, I think."

"In _there_? But you said you were just talking to him..."

"I was. It's a time travel thing. I think he travelled back from the future to tell me what I had to do to get him out. He was wearing one of those." Rory indicated the battered wrist-strap on Hart's arm. "And he gave me this. He said you'd know how to use it to open the Pandorica."

With that he offered the sonic device to Hart. Warily, the ex-Time Agent took it, moving several paces back from Rory so that he could study it while still keeping his blaster pistol cautiously trained on the other man, just in case he decided to do something stupidly heroic, like drawing his sword. The device appeared to be a sonic screwdriver, of all things. Hart couldn't help thinking of the laser screwdrivers carried by both the Master and Tejana. What _was_ it with Time Lords and fancy screwdrivers? Still, the operating system on this one seemed fairly straightforward. He had no doubt he could use it if he had to.

"Oh, I could open the box easily enough," he said to Rory, flipping the screwdriver over and intently examining the other side. "I'm the best conman-slash-thief in all the galaxies. Opening locked things is my speciality. It's just a matter of using the sonic screwdriver to boost the energy levels of my wrist-strap, which I can then use to trip the temporal locks on the box. It might take a little while, but it can be done. The question is, what's in it for me? This Doctor means nothing to me. You haven't given me one good reason why I should help you."

The lines around Rory's mouth tightened. Deliberately, he raised his arm and pointed it at Hart. All at once, there was a blast of searing white light and the ex-Time Agent's blaster pistol flew from his hand and skittered uselessly across the stone floor. Hart stared at it in blank astonishment, before wheeling back around to face the young centurion. Rory's hand had flipped down to reveal a very sophisticated laser weapon, which was currently trained somewhere on Hart's mid-riff.

"The Doctor _also_ told me I'd have to put in a bit of work to convince you to help. But you know what? I...am...having...a _very_ _bad day_," Rory gritted out, in the dangerous tone of someone who had just been pushed much too far. "First, I find out that I'm not even human. I'm a plastic Roman with a gun hidden in my arm. Then I used that gun to kill the woman who was going to be my wife, just as she remembered who I was. After that, every star in the heavens went supernova and the Universe ended. Now my best friend, who incidentally might be able to fix it all, is locked inside that box and he needs to get out. So, unless you want to make me very, very angry – and believe me, you really, really _don't_ - I suggest you stop sodding around right now and _open the bloody Pandorica!_"

"R-ight," Hart said, eyeing the threatening laser and raising his hands in a soothing fashion. It suddenly dawned on him that he had definitely underestimated Rory Williams. "OK, kid, you got me. As far as reasons go, that's a very good one. Why didn't you just say so in the first place?"

Rory didn't reply. He merely gestured towards the Pandorica with the gun. Swearing softly and fluently under his breath at being taken so flagrantly off-guard, Hart crouched down in front of the enormous cube and set to work unlocking it.


	11. Chapter 11

**_Author's Note:_  
**

**_Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed since the last chapter was posted. You all got me up off my lazy butt to write this next chapter. So here's a big, grateful wave to: gallifrey calls now, MountainLord-92, SawManiac211, MayFairy, EmmaMarie, Daughter of the Master, TheWickedHeart, Guest, yulicee (x 2), irishartemis, sailormajinmoon, EDZEL2, evilpinklollipop, TheWritingKat, JessieDear13, Lost Moon, Geraldine, GuesssWho and Theta'sWorstNightmare.  
_**

**_To guest:- Thank you very much, you're amazing too! Very glad you are so eager to find out what happens. Hopefully you'll enjoy this chapter too!  
_**

**_To sailormajinmoon:- I love Rory and he deserves some BAMF moments. I'm very excited to be having a chance to be writing him, for once. So hopefully people will keep giving me feedback, to let me know if I'm getting him right. There will still be plenty of sexual tension between Koschei and 'Kat'. The Master doesn't give up that easily, no matter what age he is, LOL. Thanks so much for your review :)  
_**

**_To LostMoon:- Aw ta, always so nice to know people are enjoying my romance scenes, as I do find them tricky to write.  
_**

**_To geraldine:- Hooray, welcome back aboard, so lovely to hear from you again \O/  
_**

**_No warnings at all for this one...wow, who'd have thought? :P Hope you all enjoy it anyway!  
_**

* * *

**- Chapter Eleven -**

"_How can you see into my eyes like open doors?  
Leading you down into my core, where I've become so numb.  
Without a soul my spirit's sleeping somewhere cold,  
Until you find it there and lead it back home._

_Wake me up inside, wake me up inside,_  
_Call my name and save me from the dark._  
_Bid my blood to run, before I come undone,_  
_Save me from the nothing I've become!"_

- Evanescence, Bring Me To Life

* * *

Keeping his weapon steadily trained on Hart's back, Rory watched the other man turn his attention to the sonic screwdriver, deftly manipulating the unfamiliar controls, apparently searching for the correct frequency to calibrate to his wrist-strap.

"So..." Hart said casually as he worked, breaking the heavy silence that reigned in the dim cavern. "Been friends with this Doctor for long?"

"A while," Rory responded in a clipped voice, unwilling to give away too much information. He might need this man to help save the Doctor, but it didn't mean he trusted him, not by a long chalk.

Hart slanted a knowing look at his face and then nodded. "Changes you, doesn't it?"

"What?"

"Time Lords. They're larger than life, aren't they? They just wander through the Universe, changing everything they touch. Things, places...and especially people. They don't even realise they're doing it, half the time," Hart replied, his eyes now fixed on connecting the two devices in his hands. "You start off travelling with them for what you think are your own reasons. But then, after a while, those reasons seem to get blurred in your head and you find yourself doing things you'd never dreamed you'd be doing. And before long, even though you know it'd be much more sensible to walk away, you find you can't, because you're addicted to the high of it all, the excitement, the _thrill _of it. You're addicted to being with them and you can't give it up, even though they turn your life upside down."

Rory stared at him incredulously. It was almost as if the man had looked inside his head and seen exactly what was there - all the turbulent, conflicted, jumbled emotions he felt towards the Doctor.

"You...you sound like you know what you're talking about," he said shakily.

Hart gave a small smirk. "I should," he answered. "After all, you only have to put up with one of them. I've got two on my plate. Double trouble, you might say."

"You travel with_ two _Time Lords?"

"Yeah, I told you. The tiny redhead and the surly blonde. Your Doctor's daughter and her boyfriend...husband...whatever he is."

Rory felt the words race through him like an electric shock, as suddenly everything began to make sense. "Tejana and the Master? Are _they_ the friends you've been talking about? I've never met them, but the Doctor and Amy told me about them. So the little redhead that came here to see the Doctor...she's his _daughter_? But that can't be right - Amy told me she had long black curly hair."

"She did," Hart confirmed. The screwdriver was fitted neatly into a small port in the side of the wrist-strap by now and was emitting a consistent hum. The screen of the wrist-strap was glowing green and winking on and off. "She regenerated not long ago. New hair, face, body, everything...same sexy, fiery little bundle of energy, just in a much smaller package."

But Rory was hardly listening. "The Doctor can't remember his own daughter," he said in stunned astonishment.

Hart glanced up sharply. "What d'you mean, he can't remember her?"

"The cracks in time. They erase you from history. The Doctor says it's as if you were never born at all," Rory explained. "That's what happened to me. I was killed and swallowed up by a crack. My fiancée Amy couldn't remember that I'd ever been in her life, because I never actually existed."

"No," Hart shook his head in emphatic denial. "No, that can't have happened to Tejana. There's been some sort of mistake. _I _remember her. Even _you_ remember that she exists."

"Yeah, but we're time travellers, both of us. The Doctor says travel in the Time Vortex alters your perceptions in subtle ways and this is one of them."

"So I can remember people who have never actually been born? Oh, great, that's bound to be useful. Hooray for me!" Hart said sarcastically. "One big hole in your brilliant theory though, Julius Caesar – this Doctor travels in time. Why can't he remember her?"

The young centurion scowled blackly. "I told you, my name's _Rory_. And as for the Doctor, Tejana's his daughter, a part of his direct history. His entire timeline has been changed. He can't possibly remember her."

"But it's not irreversible, right? You said it happened to you and you came back."

Rory's eyes dropped miserably to the evil-looking weapon protruding from his hand. "Yeah, I came back. But I'm not sure how. And I'm not sure what as. I mean, look at me. I'm not exactly human any more, am I?"

Hart didn't reply, his brow furrowed in deep thought. The green glow of the screen on the wrist-strap had stopped flashing. The ex-Time Agent detached the sonic screwdriver and went to slip it into the pocket of his jacket, until Rory held out his hand in silent demand and he reluctantly handed it back over.

"So, you think the Doctor is the only one who has a chance of fixing this unholy mess?" he asked.

"You said it yourself. The Time Lords are larger than life," Rory replied with a wry, tight smile, recalling all the impossible situations the Doctor had got them out of before. This one had to be the granddaddy of them all - Rory had turned into a monster, Amy was dead, the Doctor was imprisoned, the Universe was destroyed. And yet, despite it all, his unwavering faith in the Doctor wouldn't allow him to give up. It was a tiny ember of hope that still warmed him from the inside out, no matter what. "If anyone can do it, he can."

"Right, then," Hart said briskly. "In that case, you'd better stop wasting my time and let me get on with getting him out, hadn't you?"

With that, the ex-Time Agent turned back to the Pandorica, as if opening it had been all his own idea and Rory was nothing more than an annoying bystander. For a brief instant, Rory's gun arm twitched angrily. The part of him that was no longer human was sorely tempted just to shoot the obnoxious stranger and get it over with. But then he forced himself to relax. Like it or not, he needed Hart, even if he was an ass. He was still waiting for the part where the other man started to grow on him, but he sincerely hoped, for both their sakes, that the Doctor's prediction would come true and it would happen soon.

* * *

Everything was still and quiet as Tejana made her way back along the darkened corridors of the staff quarters. It was still very early in the morning and no-one was stirring yet, even the other servants, who were always the first to rise to begin breakfast preparations. It seemed she had been asleep in Koschei's bed for a few hours only. If she was very lucky, perhaps no-one would even have noted her absence.

Despite her pressing sense of urgency, she had to stop and rest a few times against one of the walls, taking deep breaths in an attempt to steady herself. It wasn't just the physical effects of Anzor's attack, which were bad enough. She was also starting to get flashbacks of the assault, the helplessness and horror she had felt when he had brutishly pressed his aroused body against hers, the terrible, soul-shattering knowledge that she was not strong enough to stop him doing whatever he wanted, no matter how fiercely she struggled.

The intense delayed reaction made her tremble from head to toe, her skin crawling where her intended rapist had touched her. Nothing had changed since Councillor Rohan had violated her, so many centuries ago. She was so much older now, so much wiser. She had fought and killed so many times since then. And yet, when it came down to the wire, none of it had helped to protect her. The shaking intensified as the pain and the rage and the self-despite roiled inside her like a poison, her eyes glittering with bitter tears she refused to shed. The only thing that prevented her from falling to pieces altogether was the memory of waking up in Koschei Oakdown's arms. He said he hadn't saved her, but she didn't believe that. The coincidence of his presence at the time of the attack was far too great. In her timeline, the Master had sworn that he would never allow anyone to ever harm her again. She didn't know exactly what had happened to stop Anzor, but - no matter how stupid it sounded - she couldn't help believing deep in her hearts that her life-mate was somehow keeping his promise, even though she was lost in a timeline that was so far removed from their own.

Her fingers moved to her lips, feeling again the enticing shape of the young Koschei's kiss. The passionate heat of his desire had burnt away the disgusting sensation of Anzor's mouth ravaging hers. Now, instead of the depravity of rape, all she could taste was the memory of pure sensual pleasure. She wondered how the Master would feel about her ardent reaction to his younger self. Would he be amused...or would he be angry? Then again, she reflected dully, perhaps he would never know. If she couldn't reverse the effects of the crack soon, maybe he would never even exist as she had known him. Oh gods, every single thing she did here ran the risk of changing the future. If she inadvertently changed Theta's future, she might never be born at all, thereby making it impossible to restore her timeline. Not only that, if he never ran away from Gallifrey, if he never became the Doctor, the terrible impact of that loss on the rest of the Universe was beyond imagining.

And as for Koschei...if she became sexually involved with him here as 'Kat', how would that affect what they were to each other in the future? Especially since she knew she could never join with him without revealing exactly who and what she was, whether she wanted to or not. As strong as her psychic barriers were, they would never be enough to keep him out of her mind during the heated intimacy of sex – anyone else, maybe, but not him, never him. Even if she was permanently stuck here, even if Lady Tejanakaturadilena had vanished from history forever and all that was left for her was to live her life out as Kat the Shabogan servant girl, she couldn't allow him to know his future - the torment and eventual insanity brought about by the drums; his wandering, lonely, loveless life as a renegade, at times barely clinging to the pitiful shreds of his existence; his bitter enmity with the Doctor, the friend he had once cherished so dearly; the twin betrayals of Rassilon and Kelios; the horror and pain of the Time War; the humiliating defeat that became the Year That Never Was. Because if he ever found out, naturally he would try to change it all...and who knew what temporal catastrophe would eventuate from that?

Just the thought of all the possible twists and permutations of her predicament made her head hurt. She had to face the truth. Even if she never managed to leave here, Koschei Oakdown was not for her. And maybe it was just as well. The Koschei of this time wanted her, but he didn't love her and probably never would. Not the way the Master of her future did. Once, back when she first lay with him in the Matrix, merely wanting him had been more than enough for her. When she had taken his hand and followed him into his TARDIS, she had never expected there to ever be any more than lust and desire between them. But things had changed since then. They had been through so much just to stay together. Their baby had not been conceived through lust alone, but through love. And now she could never settle for any less.

Gritting her teeth, she pulled herself upright and forced herself onwards. Giving up wasn't in her nature. Whatever happened, she had to find a way get back to her own Master – there was no other alternative she was prepared to live with. Gathering herself together both physically and mentally, she made a supreme effort and managed to negotiate the remainder of the corridor leading to the room she shared with Dyoni. At her touch, the door slid back silently and she stole into the dark room beyond. She only managed to take two or three steps forward before the light snapped on, revealing the other maidservant sitting up in bed and glaring at her, arms crossed in anger.

"Where have you been?" Dyoni demanded. "I was _worried_!" Then her gaze slipped down over Tejana's body, eyes widening as she took in the borrowed tunic, dwelling accusingly on the betraying golden oak trees embroidered at the cuffs. "But I see now that I was concerned about nothing. My congratulations, Kat, for succeeding where so many other servant girls have failed before you. I expect Lord Koschei made it worth your while?"

At the contemptuous insinuation in her voice, Tejana finally snapped, the traumatic events of the past few days wearing her down at last. White-hot fury erupted along her veins, like lava flowing from a volcano. History might have forgotten that Tejanakaturadilena had ever existed, but inside Kat's small body, the Time Lady was still very much alive - far too much alive to tolerate being unjustifiably sneered at by a servant girl.

"Don't you dare...don't you DARE...look down your nose at me, you supercilious cow!" she spat, shaking with rage. "You were _worried_! Why exactly was that, Dyoni? Because you knew! YOU KNEW! And you didn't bother to warn me, did you? You just let me walk right into it!"

All the colour drained from Dyoni's face, leaving it a sickly green colour. "I...I don't know what you're talking about..."

"I'm talking about THIS!" Tejana shouted, stripping off Koschei's tunic and revealing the ruined dress beneath. "I'm talking about Anzor, son of Drall, the sick, twisted psychopath with the galvaniser! Am I ringing any bells yet?"

Dyoni's hand came up to cover her mouth, as if she was about to be sick. A whimper rose from her throat like a wounded animal.

"He cornered me in the Refectory," Tejana continued in a voice like a knife. "He tortured me with his galvaniser and he would have raped me, if it wasn't for Koschei Oakdown. But that's no surprise to you, because that's what happened to Minya, isn't it?"

Dyoni gave a choked sob, her eyes locking on to Tejana's face in anguish, as if begging her to stop. But Tejana wasn't in the mood to be merciful. "ISN'T IT?" she persisted. "Why didn't you warn me, Dyoni? Why didn't you tell me about Minya?"

A convulsion of pain twisted the other girl's expression. "_Because she's my little sister!_" she wailed, tears streaking down her face as the words poured out of her like a torrent. "And she was beautiful. So _beautiful!_ Bright, lively, always laughing. She was promised to be married to a boy who she'd loved from childhood. She had everything in front of her, every hope, every expectation, every dream. And then one day, _he_ caught her, making up his room alone. I was supposed to be _with_ her, but I'd been called away. I never thought...I never _knew_...or I would never have left her." Dyoni looked up at Tejana, her face a mask of horror and despair as she relived the terrible events all over again. "The things he did to her, the agonies he put her through...by the time I found her, he had broken her mind, utterly and completely...and now there's nothing left. It's as though a light went out inside her that day. She doesn't think or talk. She doesn't know any of the people who love her. She just sits in my father's house, rocking back and forth like a child and staring at the wall, forever dead inside, even though she still breathes."

Tejana sank down to sit on the edge of her bed, her legs giving out from under her, all her anger draining away at the anguish in the other girl's voice. "Oh gods, Dyoni, I'm so sorry...I'm so, so sorry."

"He was never punished. Because he's the President's son and Minya was just a servant. Everyone knew what he'd done, but we were all forbidden to speak of it, unless we wished to face severe reprisals," Dyoni said, her face hard and bitter. "Then you came and they just slotted you into Minya's place, as though she had never even existed, as though she just didn't matter. They even gave you her bed, here in this room. I wanted to warn you, Kat, I really did. But I knew that if anyone found out I had said anything, I would lose my position. My entire family are dependent on the Time Lords for their livelihood. I couldn't risk that. So I tried to watch over you instead, tried to be with you as often as I could, to protect you. I knew he would never try anything if he couldn't get you by yourself. But tonight, you just disappeared and I couldn't find you. I tried to tell myself that it couldn't happen again, that he wouldn't _dare_...but the truth is, I let you down, just like I let my sister down."

With that, she dropped her head into her hands and began to weep jaggedly, as if every sob was being torn out of her. Tejana stared at her, suddenly understanding the reason for the claustrophobic way Dyoni had treated her ever since she had arrived, always careful never to leave her alone inside the Academy buildings. "No!" she said, unsure how to comfort the distraught girl. "No, don't say that. You didn't let me down. And you didn't let her down either. Dyoni, Anzor is totally insane. Nothing you could have done would have stopped him, in my case or in Minya's."

"I'm her big sister!" Dyoni snarled. "I had a duty to protect her. I should have sent her to run that errand, and then it would have been me instead of her. But I was tired of making beds and I wanted a break. So I left her there, all by herself."

"There was no way you could have known what he would do," Tejana said. "Listen to me, Dyoni. I'm going to make sure Anzor pays for what he's done. I don't know how and I don't know when, but I promise you, I _will_ settle his account."

Even as she said the words, she inwardly cursed her lack of knowledge about Anzor's future. She knew what happened to every single member of the Deca, but before arriving in this time, she had never even heard of Anzor. Damn it, why had the Doctor never mentioned him? Was it because he died young in punishment for his crimes? Or was it just because the Doctor left him behind the way he did everyone else ion Gallifrey and never thought of him again? Had he continued to rape and maim and possibly even kill, unimpeded, all the way up until their planet was destroyed in the Time War? There was no way of knowing. If she kept her promise to Dyoni and killed him herself, here and now, she would probably be changing history. But right now, she didn't care. Surely history could only be improved if a monster like him was removed before his time.

Dyoni gazed at her with tear-filled eyes. "Why is it that I believe you, Kat? There's something about you that's different from everyone I've ever met."

_That's probably because you've never met one of the Neverwere before, _Tejana thought dryly._ I'm about as different as it's possible to get._

Aloud, she merely said, "Come on, we'd better start getting ready. Fionnula will be expecting us at breakfast preparation very soon and I don't want to be late."

"But, Kat...are you well enough? If Anzor tortured you with his galvaniser..." Dyoni ventured uncertainly. "Shouldn't you rest?"

"Don't worry about me, I'm stronger than I look," Tejana shrugged, even though she knew that it was going to be far from easy, despite her rapid healing. "And I can't afford to get into any more trouble with Fionnula." _I can't afford to have any more attention drawn to me, full stop._

Dyoni looked as if she wanted to argue further, but Tejana turned her back to start getting changed and didn't give her the chance.

* * *

When they arrived in the kitchen, they found that the possible tardiness of a couple of her staff was the last thing on Fionnula's mind. Tejana sensed it as soon as she walked in. The air was electric, the entire place buzzing with animated whispering, bubbling over like a cauldron full of gossip.

"Oh, Dyoni, have you heard?" one of the other maids gasped, grabbing Dyoni's arm in breathless excitement.

"Heard what?" Dyoni asked in bewilderment.

"It's Lord Anzor," the maid exclaimed, her tone rich with prurient satisfaction. Clearly Dyoni hadn't been the only servant to hate and fear the sadistic young Time Lord. "They say he's been attacked by a ghost."

"A _ghost_?" Tejana queried sharply. "What do you mean, a ghost?"

"He was in his room. It was triple dead-locked from the inside, but something managed to get in," the maid replied. "The other boys heard him screaming and eventually managed to break the door down, but there was no-one inside but him. He was as stiff as a board, they say, and his face was all distorted in terror, as though he had seen an unspeakable nightmare come to life."

"Is he dead?" Dyoni asked in a hushed voice.

"No, he's in a coma. They can't rouse him, no matter what they do," the girl replied. "He's in the Sanatorium, but the medics haven't been able to do anything for him. They say he might stay like that forever, nothing more than a vegetable. President Drall is distraught – Lord Anzor was his only son. The Chancellery Guard are everywhere inside the Academy, trying to discover what happened to him."

_Oh, gods, the Chancellery Guard, here, _Tejana thought apprehensively. _That's all I need!_

Dyoni swung around to stare at her. The other girl's eyes were wide with fear and awe. It wasn't too difficult to decipher what she was thinking. No sooner had Tejana promised that Anzor would pay and now he had, in such a fitting way and in mysterious circumstances. The conclusion she would reach was inevitable.

"They say that among the Shabogans there are still witch-women, the last descendants of the Pythia from the Dark Times," Dyoni whispered in wonder. "I never believed it until now."

"_They_ say," Tejana echoed tartly. "They seem to be saying a lot of things today, whoever 'they' are. I'm not a witch-woman, Dyoni. And I can assure you, whoever is responsible for this, it wasn't me. I admit I would have killed him with pleasure for what he did, but I had nothing to do what happened to him."

Dyoni nodded solemnly, obviously not believing a word of it. "It's enough for me that my sister is avenged," she said. "Your secret will always be safe with me."

Tejana was about to protest again, but at that moment, Fionnula stood on a chair amidst the uproar and clapped her hands for quiet. Along with the rest of the servants, Tejana and Dyoni turned to face her.

_I didn't do it, _Tejana said to herself, as everyone slowly settled down into silence. _But who did?_

There was only one person she knew who had the skill and the vindictiveness and the motive to suddenly attack the Lord President's son in this elusive, almost preternatural way. The Master would never allow an assault on his lifemate to go unpunished. And this kind of revenge was very typical of his ruthless and violent nature. But the Master was far away. Here, in this place and time, there was only young Koschei. Would he be capable of doing something like this at this point in his timeline? It seemed very unlikely, but she couldn't think of any other reasonable explanation.

"Attention, everybody," Fionnula commanded. "Listen to me. By now, you've all heard the news about Lord Anzor, son of Lord President Drall. All of us know Lord Anzor. Some of us have had...dealings...with him before."

An undercurrent of dark muttering swept through the crowd in response to her words. Evidently, none of the 'dealings' the servants had with Anzor had been pleasant.

"Nonetheless..." Fionnula continued, holding up her hands for quiet. "Nonetheless, we still have jobs to do. And whatever our reaction to these events, we will continue to perform our tasks to the best of our ability, is that understood? The Academy is depending on us and we won't let them down."

Again a rumble rippled through the assembly of servants, this time of grudging assent.

"Very well," Fionnula nodded. "Let's get on with it, then. We have breakfast to serve. Dismissed." Her gaze flicked toward Tejana. "Kat, I need to see you, please."

Tejana raised her eyebrows. _Now what? _ Weaving through the dispersing servants, she crossed over to the Head Housemaid, who was stepping down from her chair.

"Yes, ma'am?"

Fionnula flicked a critical eye over her, as if searching for something to find fault with. Tejana stiffened, but held her temper. She had learned by now that this was not anything personal, it was just Fionnula's way.

"What happened to your lip, Kat?" the woman asked abruptly.

"I ran into a door in the dark this morning," Tejana answered, without hesitating or dropping her eyes as she told the lie.

"I see. Then you will learn to be more careful in the future, I trust," Fionnula sniffed. "Lord President Drall has arrived. He is closeted with Lord Borusa in his study. Naturally, he is very distressed. Since you are the upper house maid assigned to serve Lord Borusa, I wish you to wait on them and to find out whether there is anything they require."

Tejana dropped into a small curtsey. She wasn't sure if this was good news or not. On the one hand, she might be able to hear something that would give her a clue as to what was going on. On the other hand, with all the senior Time Lords now on the alert for anomalies, venturing too close to Borusa could be flirting with utter disaster.

"Yes, ma'am," she said softly.

"And I hope there is no need to remind you of the need for discretion," Fionnula told her stiffly. "Lord President Drall is very anxious to find out who has done this to his son. I see no need for any of my staff to...affect...the outcome of the investigation."

A small smile tweaked at the corner of Tejana's lips. _Oh, you are very clever, aren't you?_ she thought. _ Behind those carefully phrased words, you're not forbidding me to hinder the investigation, you're forbidding me to help it along. You don't want the perpetrator to be caught any more than the other servants. You'd rather shake him by the hand for ridding the servants of Anzor's constant menace. As would we all._

"Yes, ma'am," she responded. "I understand completely."

"Yes," Fionnula said. "I thought you might."

* * *

Having no choice but to follow the Head Housemaid's instructions, Tejana made her way up to Borusa's study, cautiously testing her mental defences as she went, ensuring there were no loopholes or weaknesses that could give her away to the older Time Lord's sharp mind.

She had not got very far when an arm shot out of a dark alcove and grabbed her, dragging her deep into the shadows. She opened her mouth to scream, but a warm hand clapped forcefully over her mouth. "Sssshhhh, Kat...it's only me!"

Sagging with relief, she realised it was Koschei. He felt her relax against him and slowly removed his hand.

"What are you _doing_?" she hissed angrily. "You frightened me half to death!"

"After everything that's happened, I didn't think it was a good idea for us to be seen together," he said in a grim voice. "What the _hell _did you do to Anzor?"

"What did _I _do? I didn't do anything. I thought _you_ did it!"

She felt him shake his head. "Not me. I kind of had my hands full last night, if you remember. Very pleasantly full."

Colour washed across her cheeks and she was very glad of the concealing darkness, so that he couldn't see the betraying blush.

"So," he continued. "If it wasn't me and it wasn't you, who was it?"

"I don't know. The Academy's crawling with Chancellery Guard. They've mounted a full scale investigation."

He snorted. "Yeah, and what's the bet their 'full scale investigation' miraculously fails to uncover the details of any of Anzor's little 'hunting trips'?"

"I'm on my way up to Borusa's study right now," she told him. "The Lord President is there with him. Maybe I'll be able to find out what they really think happened, instead of relying on all the gossip and innuendo that's floating around."

She felt his arms tighten around her. "Just be careful, Kat. They'll be looking for a scapegoat for this. I don't want it to be you."

"Koschei..." she began.

But before she could complete the sentence, he was kissing her again, his hands knotting in her hair as he thoroughly explored her mouth in the darkness, taking it and owning it. For a few, shocked moments, she couldn't find the will to resist. Almost without volition, her lips began moving under his, clinging, returning the pressure of his mouth as it drove relentlessly into hers. But then she pulled away, stepping back out into the dim light of the corridor, as angry with herself as she was with him.

"I've already told you, I belong to someone else!" she said furiously. "What part of that do you not understand?"

Following her out into the passageway, he gave her an unrepentant grin, his navy blue eyes laughing at her. "I understand all of it. I just don't care. Everything belongs to someone, one way or another. How would we ever get what we want if we didn't take what belongs to someone else?"

Tejana stared at him, hearing the echoes of his older self in his voice. "What makes you think you have the _right_, to take whatever you want? What makes you so special?"

His youthful face hardened and, again, she could almost see his older self looking out at her from behind his eyes. "Because I'm the heir of Oakdown. My family is one of the most wealthy and influential on Gallifrey. One day, _I'll_ be President of the Time Lords. And the Time Lords are the oldest and most powerful race in the Universe. So I have every right."

Tejana said nothing. There was nothing she could say, no argument she could make that would change the path he was already beginning to walk. Instead, she turned away, her hearts heavy, grieving for what she knew he would become.

Fast as a striking snake, his hand seized her wrist and pulled her back. "Don't you _ever_ turn your back on me, Kat!" he snarled. "Not ever!" Then, seeing her wince in pain, he slowly relaxed his grip. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you. But the look on your face...what's so wrong with knowing what you want and going after it? That's what winners do!"

She shook her head sadly. "Because that's how other people get hurt, Lord Koschei. Every single time."

With that, she sank into a deep, respectful curtsey, before rising and walking hurriedly up the corridor, trying not to cry.


	12. Chapter 12

**_Author's Note: _**

**_Thanks very much for all the lovely folk who reviewed since the last chapter, your feedback always means the world to me, and continues to inspire my writing._  
**

**_So big hugs to: gallifrey calls now, Ahsilaa, MayFairy, evilpinklollipop, pattibon, EmmaMarie, MountainLord-92, Theta'sWorstNightmare, sailormajinmoon, TheWickedHeart, Imorgen (x 2), Geraldine, Aietradaea (x 2), TheDoctorsMistress, EDZEL2, Lost Moon and JessieDear13.  
_**

**_To sailormajinmoon: Thanks so much again for the review. Yes, Tejana will find out in due course about what happened to Anzor. I truly hope you will also enjoy this next chapter :)  
_**

**_To Geraldine: Thank you, you are a brilliant reviewer XXX  
_**

**_To Lost Moon: That Evanescence song is one of my absolute favourites, so I'm very glad you think it's appropriate to the relationship between Tejana and the Master :) Thanks very much for your comments.  
_**

**_OK, ladies and gentlemen, here it is - hopefully this chapter will provide some necessary explanations to those folk who are following. Fingers crossed that it's all OK. Any feedback much appreciated :)  
_**

* * *

**- Chapter Twelve - **

"_Here he comes again, my evil twin..._

_My friends have seen him hiding, underneath my skin..."_

_- They Might Be Giants, My Evil Twin_

* * *

"Did those Nestene duplicates give you a belt over the head?" the black-dressed Time Lord asked sarcastically. "Of course I'm the Master. Who else would I be?"

The Doctor stared at him, trying to sort through the confusing jumble of everything that had happened since he had arrived at Stonehenge - trying to work out why his gut instinct was screaming that the creature imprisoned with him was not the Master he had known, no matter how much it looked and sounded like him.

_The baby_, he told himself, thinking of the strange jangling in the back of his mind when the Master had mentioned his daughter's pregnancy. It was as if he had left himself a hidden memo inside his own head, in the hope that he would eventually remember. _The baby is the key. My grandson._

"No, you're not," he said aloud. "I have to admit, you're very good, and at first you had me fooled. But, as it happens, I believe you about my daughter coming here to tell me she was pregnant with the Master's child. As far-fetched and ridiculous as that information sounds, something tells me that's exactly what happened, even though I don't remember it. I can feel it in my bones."

"So, what...I tell you the truth and suddenly that means I'm not the Master?" the other man sneered. "Oh, come on, Doctor, you can do better than that. After all, why would I bother to lie when the truth hurts so much more?"

"No..." the Doctor said slowly, finally putting the all the pieces together and understanding precisely why his subconscious mind had been warning him. "No, because if my daughter is pregnant with the Master's child, both she and the baby would automatically become part of his direct timeline. Time-fire is an elemental part of the Universe. No living thing is immune to its effects. Even with his formidable psychic abilities, there's no way the real Master would be able to remember someone in his own direct timeline who had been erased by Time-fire, any more than I can. Ergo, you are not the real Master." His eyes narrowed, his gaze fixed steadily on the other man's face. "And the more I look at you now, the more I can see it. The one reason I've shown mercy to the Master over and over again throughout the centuries, no matter what he did, is that whenever I've looked into his eyes, I've always been able to see the soul of my old friend Koschei looking back at me. Corrupted, twisted and damaged almost beyond repair, maybe, but still there, still capable of redemption. But you don't have any soul at all. Maybe you never did. All I can see in you is darkness."

"You've always been so very clever, haven't you, _Doctor_?" spat the thing that wore the Master's face. "So very good at figuring things out. Only, this time it's not going to help you. You're trapped in here for eternity, just like me."

The Doctor felt a chill trickle down his spine. The false Master was right. He had no brilliant plan for getting out of here. Beyond the protective walls of the Pandorica, anything could have happened to the Universe. He assumed all the stars had died in the temporal backlash from the exploding TARDIS, just as he had predicted. Even if the Earth hadn't vanished completely, with no sun to provide essential warmth it would be nothing more than a dead, frozen wasteland. And even if, by some wild, unlikely, outrageous chance, Amy and Rory were still alive out there, they would have no clue how to open the complicated chrono-locks that secured the Pandorica. The bottom line was, for the first time ever, the Doctor was well and truly screwed.

Seeing his rising anger and fear and frustration, the false Master gave him a feral grin that turned his stomach. "It's almost going to be worth getting stuck in here, just to see you _squirm_, Doctor. Just to have the pleasure of watching the light of hope slowly dying in your eyes as you realise you're never going to escape. The man who never stops running. Ha, looks like I put a stop to that, didn't I?"

"Who _are _you?" the Doctor demanded incredulously. "_What_ are you? You're not a living thing, but you're not a Nestene duplicate either. Your disguise is much too perfect for that. Everything about you is identical to the Master, right down to your very Time Lord essence, and that's impossible to fake."

"Always so full of questions, aren't you? It's always been one of the many annoying things about you. But I suppose I may as well tell you. No point trying to keep it a secret any more, now we're both locked in here," the false Master replied. "If you must know, I was born from the _Cruciform_, the mightiest ship ever created. But that doesn't mean anything to you either, does it, Doctor? It should – it really, really should. But you have so many forgotten memories. So many unexplained holes you just can't fill. Your head must feel like a piece of Swiss cheese."

"The _Cruciform_?" The Doctor wrinkled his forehead, recalling that long ago telephone conversation with the real Master, just before all hell broke loose on the Earth and 'The Year That Never Was' began. "The Gallifreyan warship the Master was on during the Time War? The one that the Dalek Emperor boarded?"

"Oh, the _Cruciform_ was much more than just a warship, Doctor. It was the ultimate weapon, created by the Master's half-brother, Kelios, bastard son of the House of Oakdown, with the full sanction of Lord President Rassilon and the High Council of Gallifrey. And, at its heart, five million grains of psychic pollen combined with the Matrix technology of the Time Lords."

"Five _million_ grains?" the Doctor exclaimed in horror, recalling just how much damage three grains had done in his own TARDIS. The destructive potential embodied in five million grains was beyond even his imagination...and if the Time Lords had been insane enough back then to amalgamate that with the psychic nerve centre that had been The Matrix...

The other man nodded maliciously. "Five million grains, all of them concentrated on the mind of just one Time Lord."

"The Master."

"See, now you're getting it, Doctor. Your old friend Koschei was the dark well from which sprang all the abominations of the Time War – the Nightmare Child, the Requiem of Arcadia, the Horde of Travesties, the Skaro Degradations...and, of course, that particular old favourite of yours, the Moment. Remember the Moment, Doctor? Remember watching Gallifrey _burn_?"

The Doctor turned his head aside, fighting to control his surging emotions. If all this was true, _why_ didn't he know about it? _Why_ didn't he remember?

"What are you then? Some kind of Dream Lord? An anthropomorphic manifestation of the Master's dark side, a walking and talking doppelgänger, extracted from his mind by the psychic pollen, am I right? That's why you're so alike in every way, because you're actually a reflection of part of him."

The creature inclined its head in mocking acknowledgement. "Again, a very good deduction. Ten out of ten. Although, I prefer the name Chaos-Master. 'Anthropomorphic manifestation' tends to take _such_ a long time to say."

"But you're obviously tangible – those plastic Romans touched you, those restraints are holding you...if you're just some kind of psychic manifestation, how have you managed to take on physical form?"

The Chaos-Master sniggered suggestively. "You can thank your daughter for that. Such a lot of determination for such a little thing."

"What are you talking about? What has my daughter got to do with this?" the Doctor snapped. "And what happened to the real Master?"

"Like I said, Doctor – there's so much you don't remember! So let's take a little trip down memory lane, shall we? During the Time War, you took it upon yourself to rescue the Master from his confinement at the heart of the _Cruciform. _You destroyed the ship and sent it crashing into oblivion on an unknown planet, before wiping all memory of it from both your own mind and his, to ensure it would never be resurrected again. After that, in your so-called mercy, you turned the Chameleon Arch on him, transforming him into a human and abandoning him at the end of the Universe, supposedly for his own protection. And then, you took the Moment for yourself and used it to play god, wiping out Daleks and Time Lords alike, thereby ending the War. Sound familiar?"

The Doctor shook his head mutely, his eyes stinging with tears. This version of what had happened during the Time War was so different to the one he had clung to for so long. And yet, like the devastating information that his daughter was carrying the Master's child, he couldn't refute it. Somewhere deep inside, he knew that everything the Chaos-Master was telling him was true. _ He _was the one who had turned the Master human, to save him from the annihilation of the Moment. _He _was the one who had left him on the shores of the Silver Devastation. The shock of the realisation made him feel physically ill. Up until now, he had always thought that the TARDIS had ended up on Malcassairo through some sort of weird coincidence - that the only reason they had found Professor Yana at the end of the Universe was because Jack had thrown the time machine off course by leaping on to the outside of it, just as it entered the Time Vortex. But now he understood that, once again, the TARDIS had taken him where he needed to go. Even though _he _hadn't remembered his intention to return for the Master, the ever-loyal TARDIS had, faithfully obeying an instruction he hadn't even known he had given her.

And the tiny bit of psychic pollen that had ended up inside his time-rotor, causing the almost-fatal encounter with his own Dream Lord – where had that come from? Had it been hidden inside his TARDIS all that time, since the War, somehow drifting inside when he had rescued the Master from the _Cruciform_? He supposed he would never know for sure, but it seemed very likely that was what had happened. Suddenly, a lot of things were beginning to make much more sense.

"Unfortunately for you," the Chaos-Master continued. "The Master's half-brother, Kelios, survived the crash. In the fullness of time, he set a trap for the Master, drawing his TARDIS out of the time-vortex back to the planet Mnemosyne, where he and Tejana found the remains of the _Cruciform_, entombed in the side of a mountain. That was when I was born, created from the Master's mind through the renewed power of the psychic pollen. In the battle that followed, the two Time Lords and their human associate managed to temporarily defeat me. But in the process, the Master was killed and his body turned to dust. Your daughter, however, refused to accept that he was lost. She had the Master's DNA inside her body, through the child she carries. Using this as a biometric link, she forged a psychic connection with the dying _Cruciform_ and harnessed its last flicker of power to call him back from death. And it almost worked. He heard her voice and began to return, just as she intended. But I was waiting – and at the last minute, I stepped in. He was still weak and no match for me. I took possession of the body and now he's the one who is nothing, just as I was once nothing. As I told you, Doctor, I _am_ the Master...the only Master now!"

"And Tejana...?" the Doctor asked, his hearts contracting for his unknown daughter. "Didn't she realise? Didn't she see that he had changed?"

"The connection I now have with her, the link she created using the power of the _Cruciform_, blinds her to everything except my will. It's not difficult. She wanted so badly to have him back that she sees only what she wants to see."

"_That's_ how you've managed to maintain yourself in this reality!" the Doctor said, appalled. "You've been using her. You've been draining her life energy, stealing her regenerations."

The Chaos-Master laughed, its brown eyes glittering. "Every time we had sex," he confirmed gleefully. "Little by little, bit by bit. Every time she offered herself so willingly to me and I took what I wanted, not just her lovely little body, but her life as well. And she didn't even realise I was doing it. It hasn't exactly been a hardship, I have to say."

The Doctor lunged involuntarily against his restraints, longing to punch the nasty smirk right off the creature's face.

"Tsk, tsk, temper, temper," the Chaos-Master tutted. "Calm down, Doctor. I thought you were supposed to be a man of peace."

"You're talking about my _daughter_!" the Doctor gritted out. "My _pregnant _daughter!"

"Whom you can't even remember." The Chaos-Master leaned back against the head-rest of its chair, making itself comfortable. All its fury at being imprisoned within the Pandorica seemed to have evaporated for the time being. It was having far too much fun taunting the Doctor. "So it seems a bit hypocritical for you to be turning on the over-protective parent act, doesn't it? Especially when you were always such a lousy father to start with."

With an effort that was almost physical, the Doctor managed to bite back an angry reply. Arguing with the real Master would have been pointless enough. But allowing this...this _thing_, with its stolen face and body...to bait him was a victory he couldn't allow.

Then another thought struck him. "Wait a minute! Just before they put you in here, you said: 'He thinks he can keep her from me by using the Time-fire'. What did you mean by that?" he demanded.

The creature twitched its shoulders in a small, uninterested shrug. "The original Master and I have effectively switched places. I have the corporeal body, he doesn't. But he's far from dead. Tejana brought him back far enough to give him a semblance of life, even if it's as nothing more than an intangible dream. I'm assuming he's somehow managed to pull her through one of the cracks, knowing that the only way to sever the link between her and me was to wipe her from Time altogether. As I said, he's clever."

"So he wasn't trying to harm her, he was trying to _save_ her," the Doctor said. "And the Master never does anything without a plan. He wouldn't just randomly choose to cancel out her entire existence. Wherever he's taken her, it's somewhere he thinks is safe. Which means she's not lost forever."

"It hardly matters, does it?" the Chaos-Master answered coldly. "I don't need her any more. The Pandorica will maintain my existence forever, whether I want it to or not. And from inside here, you can't help her either. Both you and I lost any chance of bringing her back when those doors closed."

At that moment, the intricate, circular locks inset into the walls of the Pandorica glowed a fluorescent green and began to rotate with a portentous clicking sound.

"Maybe...and maybe not!" the Doctor crowed in delight. "Just maybe it's my turn for a ridiculous miracle."

* * *

"Come," Borusa's voice commanded.

Tejana took a deep breath. All at once, she missed Theta's reassuring presence beside her. This time, she would have to face Borusa on her own, and she wasn't looking forward to it. She opened the door to the study. As expected, he was seated elegantly behind his desk, his fingers steepled before him in that habitual, thoughtful gesture she remembered so well. Sitting opposite him was a nondescript-looking man wearing the pure white formal robes of the President of Gallifrey. Tejana had never encountered Lord Drall before, since his term of office had long been past by the time she joined the Academy. She found herself studying him curiously, wondering what sort of a man could sire a brute like Anzor. But there was nothing notable in his thin, anxious face – no obvious sign of evil or malice. Just an ordinary man distraught by the inexplicable illness of his beloved son.

"Yes?" Borusa asked, bringing her attention sharply back to the task at hand.

She swept him a low curtsey, inwardly thinking that her knees were never going to be the same again after all this unaccustomed obeisance. At least she had no difficulty in giving this particular Time Lord the deference he expected. He had always been such an imposing figure in her own childhood, it came quite naturally to her. It was odd to realise that, for all his majesty and dignity, at this stage in his career he had been probably no older than she was now.

"Forgive me, my Lord," she said in a quiet voice. "The Head Housemaid sent me, to inquire whether His Supremacy had need of anything."

Borusa's icy gaze ran over her, prickling across her skin like a thousand needles.

"Ah...Kat, is it not?" he said. "The servant girl who broke my tea cups."

As before, Tejana kept her gaze lowered to the floor. "Yes, my Lord."

"Very well. You may serve us with some metheglin. If, of course, His Supremacy permits?"

The Lord President gave a vague nod of agreement, as though his mind was elsewhere. His face was as pale as paper, and Tejana doubted whether he had even heard and understood the question.

"The decanter and glasses are over there. Do _try _not to break anything this time," Borusa continued, his tone laced with his usual mordant sarcasm.

Following the direction of his graceful gesture, Tejana moved over to the sideboard, where she found a crystal decanter full of the strong Gallifreyan honey wine known as metheglin. Tejana had never liked it much herself, but she was aware that it was known to have medicinal value as a restorative. She guessed that Borusa had chosen it in an attempt to remedy the Lord President's obvious shock. Even from this distance, she could see Drall's hands shaking. As quietly and unobtrusively as possible, she busied herself with preparing the glasses, all the while keeping her ears sharply tuned to their conversation.

"As I was saying, Your Supremacy, the Academy will make every resource available to the investigation," Borusa was saying smoothly. "Whoever has carried out this cowardly attack on your son will soon be found and punished."

Drall gave a strangled sound that was either a choked laugh or a sob, it was difficult to tell which. "I wish I could be assured of that, Borusa. There's nothing I want more than to see Anzor's attacker brought to justice. But I don't think you'll find the perpetrator as easily as you may think."

Borusa frowned. "Why do you say that, my Lord? Surely you can't subscribe to this mad theory that your son was attacked by some sort of...ghost?"

"Not at all," Drall responded irritably. "I believe that this attack on my son was a deliberate attempt to weaken me and therefore, in turn, the government of this planet. There are...indications...that there is something loose in this Academy that doesn't belong on Gallifrey. "

Behind them, Tejana drew her breath in sharply, suddenly aware that her unauthorised presence on her home world might not have gone as unnoticed as she had hoped.

"What sort of indications?" Borusa demanded.

Drall lowered his voice to a confidential murmur. But Tejana's hearing was exceptional, even for a Time Lord, and she still easily managed to catch his next words. "The APC-Net has detected cracks in the skin of the Universe, emanating from a devastating temporal explosion in the future, reaching all the way back to us through Time."

To Borusa's credit, his face barely showed any reaction to this startling news, apart from raising one cool eyebrow. "And do we know what sort of temporal explosion has caused these cracks?"

"The Co-ordinator of the Matrix believes that the only reasonable possibility is a TARDIS, exploding at a weak point in the space/time continuum."

At this information, Tejana nearly dropped the delicate crystal decanter she was holding, only just managing to catch it at the last minute. _A TARDIS exploding?_ Oh gods, was that really what had caused the cracks? But in the future, there were only two TARDISes left, each of them belonging to someone she loved more than life itself. Who did it belong to, the Doctor or the Master? Who was in danger, her father or her lover? Both alternatives made her head swim with fear. Not only that, just how dangerous were the resulting cracks to the rest of the Universe? If even the stars were going out...

"One of our people?" Borusa was querying in disbelief.

"Apparently so. And that's not all. The Fourth Law of Time has been breached. A Time Lord has dared to travel back from the same point in the future, into the past of Gallifrey. The data gathered by the APC-Net indicates that, whoever this renegade is, they are currently at large within the Prydonian Academy," Drall said flatly. "We have no way of knowing their agenda. But I firmly believe that this person is the one responsible for the attack on my son."

_I didn't harm your son, he harmed ME! _Tejana wanted to shout, horrified that they were so close to tracking her down. _And I didn't choose to come here. I'm NOT a renegade!_

She hated that word, the term that had always been given to any Time Lord who decided to escape the restrictive regime of their home world. Renegades were regarded as traitors to Gallifrey, as if the desire for freedom was the ultimate shame.

Glancing up, she saw to her alarm that Borusa's gimlet eyes were resting on her, almost as if he'd heard her silent scream. _No, that's not possible,_ she told herself. _He's good, but he's not that good._ Hurriedly, she finished pouring out the metheglin and carried the glasses across to the two men.

She had to get out of this room and she had to do it as soon as possible.


	13. Chapter 13

**_Author's Note:_  
**

**_Good evening (well, it is evening in Australia ;P)!  
_**

**_Huge thanks to everyone who took the time to reassure me that my "info-dump" chapter wasn't too boring :) _**

**_So, lots of gratitude to: MayFairy, gallifrey calls now, EmmaMarie, Theta'sWorstNightmare, Imorgen, MountainLord-92, TheWritingKat, irishartemis, TheWickedHeart, sailormajinmoon, yulicee (x 2), SawManiac211, Aietradaea, Lost Moon, JessieDear13 and Geraldine. Your feedback was all incredibly welcome.  
_**

**_**PS. Why DO so many people on this site read regularly without reviewing? I have never understood that and it makes me a bit sad :S**_**

**_To sailormajinmoon: Thanks so much for continuing to review. Yep, the bruises the Doctor discovered on Tejana's wrists in the first chapter are from where the Chaos-Master has been draining her life energy, without her realising. And there is a bit more of the Pandorica and a bit more of Borusa in this chapter, so I hope you enjoy! XXX  
_**

**_To Lost Moon: Hello again, my friend! Very glad it is all falling into place for you, since that means my explanatory chapter has been successful \O/ As always, thank you for the feedback.  
_**

**_To Geraldine: Thank you! Hope this chapter is a prompt enough update for you :)  
_**

**_BIG WAVE TO MAYFAIRY, WHO IS BASICALLY AN AWESOME PERSON - if you like 11/OC fics, go and read her story "Deafening Silence".  
_**

**_Okay, as I mentioned to a few people, I've had to cut this chapter in half, since it was going to be around 10,000 words long otherwise. SO it didn't end up quite where I wanted it to, but hopefully it is still OK.  
_**

* * *

**- Chapter Thirteen -**

"_God, give me grace to accept with serenity,_

_the things that cannot be changed._

_Courage to change the things_

_which should be changed,_

_and the wisdom to distinguish_

_the one from the other."_

_- Reinhold Niebuhr, The Serenity Prayer_

* * *

Slowly, ever so slowly, the heavy walls of the Pandorica began to slide back. Ignoring the Chaos-Master, the Doctor's eyes remained glued to the ever-widening gap, his neck muscles tight with tension as he waited to discover the identity of his rescuer.

To his astonishment, as his vision adjusted, the dark figure standing in the gap resolved into a young man wearing the uniform of a Roman Centurion.

"Rory!" he exclaimed in overwhelming relief. "How did you do that?"

"I didn't," his friend responded bluntly, gesturing back over his shoulder. "He did."

As the walls retracted even further, the Doctor realised Rory was standing beside a man he had never seen before. The stranger had closely-cropped brown hair and a hard, arrogant face. He was dressed in what appeared to be a bright-red 18th century Hussar's jacket, dark jeans and high leather boots. Even though his left arm was in a sling, he still managed to give off an aura that hummed with danger.

"Hart!" the Chaos-Master rasped, obviously recognising the newcomer.

The man named Hart did a double-take. "Blondie!" he said in an incredulous voice. "What the hell?"

"Don't just stand there, get me out of here!"

Hart flipped open the vortex manipulator on his right wrist and moved towards the Pandorica, obviously intent on releasing the black-dressed Time Lord. The Doctor was so used to the real Master working alone, it had never even occurred to him that the Chaos-Master might have an accomplice on the outside. What was worse, this man looked alarmingly competent. If he'd managed to crack the Pandorica's external security, dismantling the internal restraints would be child's-play to him.

"NO!" the Doctor shouted. "Stay back!"

Halted by the sharp urgency in his voice, the ex-Time Agent paused in the doorway.

"Don't listen to him!" the Chaos-Master hissed. "I have to get free! Ana's in trouble! She needs me!"

"I'm telling you, keep away from him!" the Doctor ordered. "He doesn't want to help Tejana, he only wants to hurt her."

The Chaos-Master made a derisive sound. "You were on Mnemosyne with us, Hart! You know that isn't true. Ana belongs to me. He just wants to keep us apart because he's angry about the baby!"

"I want to keep them apart because he's trying to kill her!" the Doctor insisted. "If you release him, there's no telling the harm he'll do!"

The clash of wills between the two Time Lords was tremendous, the pressure inside the tiny, cramped space of the Pandorica building like a storm, all of it focused on Hart, the tension thick enough to choke on. Hart's eyes narrowed as he looked assessingly back and forth between the two prisoners. "I don't know exactly what the deal is between you two," he snarled angrily. "But I do know that if Tejana's in trouble, Blondie here is her best chance of getting out of it. And that has to come first, as far as I'm concerned!"

With that, he continued to move towards the Chaos-Master, who gave the Doctor a sly, triumphant grin. But before Hart could activate his wrist-strap, there was a sound of whirring servo-mechanisms. To the Doctor's shock, he saw Rory raise his right arm and thrust it squarely into Hart's back. At the end of the young centurion's arm, in the place where his hand should have been, he could see a hi-tech laser pistol protruding.

_Oh, Rory! _ he thought helplessly, suddenly realising that his so-called friend was actually a Nestene duplicate like all the others, constructed from plastic and primed with Amy's memories, his miraculous return from the dead nothing more than part of the Chaos-Master's plot to capture the Doctor. The only positive thing was, for whatever reason, this particular Nestene duplicate appeared to still be on his side.

"The Doctor told you to stop!" Rory told Hart in a cold voice. "So back off!"

Hart froze into instant immobility, as if paralysed by the weapon pressing into his spine. "You know what, kid?" he said over his shoulder. "You're really starting to annoy me. And people who annoy me don't tend to last very long."

"Yeah?" Rory said. "Talk to the hand!" He gave Hart another warning jab in the back, just for emphasis. "Now, move it!"

Slowly and carefully, Hart started to step backwards out of the Pandorica, with Rory keeping him covered all the way. The Doctor was never sure quite what happened next, but all at once, despite his injured arm, Hart seemed to twist around like lightning, a long, sharp knife gleaming in his other hand. The Doctor gave a shout of warning, but it was too late. There was a short, vicious scuffle, in the middle of which, Rory's laser weapon discharged in a blaze of light, taking a sizeable chunk out of the stone floor. But at the end of it all, once the dust settled, Rory was left kneeling on the ground with Hart standing behind him, the knife held threateningly to the young centurion's throat. Tiny beads of sweat were standing out on Hart's forehead and he was breathing more heavily than before, but other than that, his damaged left arm didn't appear to be slowing him down at all.

"Now, from what I've seen so far, kid, I'm willing to bet you're not much more than a pile of circuit boards and software," he purred silkily. "So it'll be interesting to see how you manage without a head!"

The Doctor felt a blast of realisation explode inside him as the Chaos-Master's earlier words flashed through his brain: "_...in the battle that followed, the two Time Lords and their human associate managed to temporarily defeat me._" Their human associate...who could that possibly have been except for Hart? Whoever this man was, it was apparent he thought he was dealing with the real Master. He was as much a victim of the imposter as Tejana was. All that was left was to make him see it.

"_Listen_ to me!" the Doctor yelled. "I know we've never met before, and you've got no reason to trust me, but I gather you're a friend of Tejana's, right?"

"I travel with her," Hart shrugged, as if the curt words were the closest he was prepared to get to an admission of friendship. He nodded towards the other Time Lord. "And with Blondie."

"Don't waste time talking to _him_!" the Chaos-Master cut in frantically, desperate to finish the conversation before it began. "Stop pissing around and get me out! _Now_!"

However, the Doctor had Hart's attention now and he wasn't about to waste the opportunity. "If you were with them on the planet Mnemosyne, then you know the creature they fought," he continued relentlessly. "The creature that looked just like the Master."

"Yeah, so? It was destroyed." But even as he said the words, Hart's eyes shot across to stare at the other Time Lord, a light of horrified awareness dawning in his eyes as he realised what the Doctor was getting at. "I _saw_ it destroyed."

The Chaos-Master struggled wildly against the imprisoning restraints, its face contorted with black fury. "Don't listen to him! _Don't listen to him!_ GET ME OUT!"

"Not destroyed, merely temporarily inconvenienced," the Doctor corrected. "It tricked Tejana into bringing it back, by making her think she was saving the real Master."

"No." Hart shook his head firmly, but he continued to stare at the Chaos-Master, doubt written all over his face. "No, she would have known. She could always tell the difference between them."

"Exactly! I told you, he's talking rubbish!" the Chaos-Master snarled. "I'm the Master, Hart, you _know_ that!"

"Just before you arrived, he was gloating about how he was draining her life energy, killing her slowly, bit by bit!" the Doctor said urgently. "He told me how he's been stealing her regenerations to maintain his existence in this reality. I wasn't on Mnemosyne – how else would I know all this?"

Hart frowned, obviously processing what he was being told, working it all out in his head. "She's usually such a gutsy little thing, but lately she's been so tired all the time..." he murmured, his eyes dark with concentration as he thought back. "She said it was just the pregnancy. But it wasn't, was it?" His head shot up, his face tightening in sudden rage. "It was _you_! I should've seen it before! You filthy, parasitic son of a bitch! I thought I'd killed you back on Mount Boreas!"

The Chaos-Master barked out a malicious laugh, all pretence falling away as the vile creature saw that the game was up. "Don't give yourself so much credit, little man. It'd take so much more than you to get rid of me. Why do you think I allowed you to come with us in the TARDIS? For your winning personality? You were a _distraction_, you idiot, nothing more! While Tejana was worrying about your stupid jacket and your pathetic little quest to find Captain Freak, I could get on with the more important things. Like organising her father's enemies into an Alliance against him. Oh, and draining her dry of life energy, of course. But every man needs a good hobby, right?"

With one quick, rough gesture, Hart shoved Rory aside and stepped forward, brandishing the gleaming knife in front of him. "You really don't want to _know _what my favourite hobbies are, you piece of shit!" he hissed dangerously. "And this time when I kill you, I'm going to make sure you don't _ever_ come back."

"Wait!" the Doctor interrupted. "You can't kill him!"

"Oh yeah?" Hart ground out, the razor-sharp knife blade now only inches away from the Chaos-Master's face. "Fundamental rule of the Universe, Doc – if it has a physical body, it can be killed. So just watch me!"

"No! The only reason this thing has a physical body is because it's used the power of the _Cruciform_ to form a symbiotic link with my daughter!" the Doctor snapped. "Until I know exactly where she is and what's happened to her, I can't be sure she's free of him. If they're still linked when you destroy him, I don't know what will happen to her. In her weakened state, the shock might kill her as well!"

Hart hesitated, as the sense of the Doctor's words penetrated the red haze of anger enveloping his brain, gradually winning out over the urge to kill. Slowly and reluctantly, he lowered the knife.

The Chaos-Master looked up into his eyes and grinned evilly. "Ohhhh, poor Captain Hart!" it jeered. "So close and yet so far. Better luck next time!"

The savage expression on Hart's face didn't change. Nevertheless, he bent down and slotted the knife into one of his boots, which was where - the Doctor now realised - it had originally come from during the fight with Rory. "All right, Doc," he said in a flat voice. "You win. For now. So what do you suggest we do with him?"

"Thank you," the Doctor responded, his muscles uncoiling in relief. He really hadn't been sure how that was going to go. Hart was an unknown quantity, an extremely loose cannon in a very bad situation. "For the time being, I think it's best he stays right where he is. I've got an exploding TARDIS to sort out first."

* * *

Doing her best to hide her mounting anxiety, Tejana served the two senior Time Lords with their metheglin, conscious the whole time of Borusa's penetrating gaze resting on her face.

Taking refuge in obeisance, she made a deep curtsey, directed at them both. "Is there any other way I can serve you, my Lords?"

Borusa took his time about replying and the fraught moment seem to stretch on forever. She could almost feel the droplets of perspiration gathering at the nape of her neck and sliding down her back. It was an old trick, using the pressure of silence to make a guilty party crack, making them feel as though they had to fill the void with words, their own vibrating nerves betraying them into saying too much. Borusa had used the tactic on her before, when she had misbehaved as a student. But recognising the ploy for what it was did not make it any easier to withstand. She still found herself biting her tongue, to stop herself from babbling like an idiot.

Then a sharp knock at the door shattered the tension, nearly giving her a heart-attack. At last, Borusa's gaze shifted away from her, leaving her feeling like a butterfly that had escaped from a pin.

"Come," he ordered peremptorily.

The door slid open, revealing a tall, dark-haired Time Lord, dressed in long, formal robes. His face was so attractive that Tejana couldn't help doing a double take. However, the second glance revealed that his eyes were like chips of ice, disdainful and domineering, while his thin lips had a supercilious cast, as though he was permanently sneering at the rest of the world. Suddenly, he didn't seem quite so handsome after all.

"Ah, my Lord Oakdown," Borusa said in unctuous welcome. "To what do we owe this pleasure?"

Tejana stared fiercely at the floor, keeping her features carefully schooled, intent on showing nothing of the violent reaction that had just arced through her. Lord Oakdown. Her life-mate's father. After everything they had discovered on Mnemosyne, after all this man had put his two sons through, just the thought of him made her feel sick. How could she have ever thought he was good-looking? Now that she knew who he was, her hatred and contempt were so strong at the sight of him, it took everything she had not to stalk over and slap him across the face until he bled from every orifice.

"I heard of the attack on the Lord President's son," Lord Oakdown replied. "As my son is also a student here, I thought it would be wise to discover what measures are being taken. My commiserations, Your Supremacy."

"Thank you, Marnal," Drall said, inclining his head sadly in acceptance.

Borusa gestured towards one of the other chairs facing his desk. "Please, have a seat, my Lord. We were just discussing the situation. Can I offer you some metheglin, perhaps?"

"I thank you, but no," Lord Oakdown said, seating himself gracefully. Tejana could see the row of beautifully-embroidered golden oak trees stitched around his cuffs and the hem of his robes. It made her think of Koschei, holding her close as he slipped his tunic over her head, and the wild urge to hit his father came back even stronger than before.

"Very well then," Borusa nodded, before returning his steely gaze to Tejana. "Kat, you may go. I will summon you if we require anything further."

She murmured, "Yes, my Lord," and bobbed another curtsey, before making her escape as quickly as possible, in case he changed his mind.

Or, perhaps, in case she did something she would end up regretting for a very long time.

* * *

Fionnula didn't say much when Tejana reported back to her that, so far, the hunt for Anzor's attacker had been unsuccessful. She merely gave a curt nod of acknowledgement and ordered Tejana to rejoin Dyoni and the other maidservants in attending to the Senior Accommodation wing. But as she turned away, Tejana couldn't help noticing a certain glint of satisfaction in her eyes. Whatever the Time Lords might think, the Chancellery Guard were not going to get much help in their mission from the servants of the Academy, that was for sure.

Dyoni and the others had already finished cleaning the male section of the Senior Accommodation wing by the time Tejana arrived, and had started on the female section. Tejana felt a sharp, little twinge of disappointment and crossly pushed it away. She was far too old to be acting like a love-struck teenager. Bumping into Koschei again could only cause more problems and she had enough of those already. Theta was the one she should be looking for – she badly needed to find out what data he had uncovered about the cracks. Surely, in the immense, centuries-old conglomeration of Time Lord knowledge, there had to be some information that could help her get back to her own timeline. A sense of frustration welled inside her. There was nothing she would like more than to race across to the data archives in the Endless Library and undertake the search herself. But she was supposed to be a servant, not a Time Lady, so that avenue was closed to her. Instead, she had to be patient and rely on her young father to dig something up. The only comforting thing was that, knowing the Doctor and his fascination with puzzles, she guessed he wouldn't leave it alone until he did.

When Tejana found Dyoni, she was busy making up a bed in one of the rooms. To Tejana's surprise, she was humming a merry tune as she worked. Tejana had never heard her make any kind of happy noise before. Further up the corridor, one of the other servants was actually whistling. The change in atmosphere from the previous days was astounding, as if an enormous storm had broken and passed over, leaving everything fresh and shiny and new.

Dyoni looked up with a smile. "Oh, there you are, Kat! Why don't you start up at the other end of the corridor and work down? That way I'll meet you in the middle."

"B-ut...shouldn't I stay here with you?" Tejana queried uncertainly, taken aback by this unprecedented change in procedure. "Isn't it the rule that we have to work in pairs?"

The other girl's smile widened, dimples dancing in her cheeks. "Not any more," she said in a low, conspiratorial voice. "He's gone now and we're all safe again, thanks to you."

Tejana shook her head, looking around in alarm in case someone had heard. "Ssssshhhhhh, Dyoni, I told you – I didn't do anything!"

But Dyoni ignored her protest and serenely continued smoothing out the bed-clothes. "You say that," she replied. "But it isn't true. Ever since you arrived, things have been different. You brought change with you, Kat. We can all feel it."

_Oh gods_, Tejana thought frantically. _Change is the last thing I want to bring. And if Borusa and the other Time Lords ever get to hear these stupid rumours..._

"Please, don't say that, Dyoni! You'll only get me into trouble!"

"It's all right! Don't be afraid, Kat, none of us will ever give you away, I promise."

Tejana could have screamed in frustration. It was like banging her head against a brick wall. "There's nothing to give away. _ I didn't do anything!_"

However, it was apparent that Dyoni wasn't going to believe her, no matter what she said. The other girl had decided that 'Kat' had mystically saved them all from Anzor and nothing was going to dissuade her. Tejana couldn't help wondering how much of this arrant nonsense Fionnula had heard. Was that why she had been chosen to go up to Borusa's study, in an attempt to find out how much the Time Lords knew? Surely the Head Housemaid didn't believe in a pack of stupid fairy-tales about Shabogan witch-women? Cursing under her breath, Tejana left the room and stalked up to the end of the corridor, her arms laden with a pile of fresh linen.

At first, she was much too annoyed to notice the ethereal melody drifting from the last room. But as she drew nearer, the music seemed to wrap around her, stroking her senses and subtly soothing her anger.

Inside the room, Millennia of the House of Brightshore sat in front of a laser harp, gently trailing her fingers along the glowing red beams contained within the octagonal frame of the instrument, her cloud of long blue hair softly falling down to curtain her face.

Tejana almost forgot to breathe as she stood watching from the threshold, transfixed by the exquisite cascade of sound. It was passionate and joyful and alluring. It seemed to pour through her, filling her soul like an empty vessel, pure and clear and sweet, beautiful and yet painful, singing of an innocence she had lost a very long time ago.

For several moments that seemed more like an eternity, she just stood and listened, tears springing to her eyes at the heart-rending beauty of it.

Then Millennia gave a small, deep sigh and dropped her hands away from the harp. Slowly, as though waking from a dream, the blue-haired girl raised her head and focused on Tejana in the doorway.

"Oh, hello," she said in her usual charming, vague way. "I didn't notice you there."

_And that was Millennia all over_, Tejana thought, remembering the sadness in Five's eyes as he had described his old friend. _Any other Time Lord would have known I was there in an instant, but not her. Always too wrapped up in the childlike world of her imagination, always safe in her land of dreams..._

"Forgive me, my lady," she answered. "I've come to make up your room, but I didn't want to interrupt such lovely music."

Millennia's pretty face lit up like a Christmas tree. "Oh, did you like it? It's an Otherstide present for Lord Rallon. It's supposed to be an aria – a musical expression of how I feel for him." Her face fell again. "But I can't seem to get it right. It just doesn't seem..._big_ enough. I love him so much and I just can't get it all into the music. Do you think he'll understand what I'm trying to say?"

A lump rose in Tejana's throat as she remembered the terrible, haunting scene of Rallon's death, deep in the realm of the Celestial Toymaker, his shattered form held in the fifth Doctor's arms, twisted and mutilated beyond description. The young Time Lord had been trapped by the Toymaker for centuries as his unwilling host and had eventually triggered all twelve of his regenerations at once to defeat the evil being inhabiting his body. Tejana could still hear that terrible, rasping, faltering voice..._Millennia? Millennia, my love...I'll miss you most of all. Are you there? _And before the Doctor could tell him that Millennia was already dead, Nyssa had fallen to her knees beside him and had taken Rallon's brittle hands in her own. _I'm here, my love. I'll always be with you. _Rallon had sighed in contentment, believing her to be the woman he had been going to marry. _I...love...you... _Then, with one last breath, he had died, still clinging to Nyssa's hands.

Tearing her mind away from the awful images, Tejana forced a smile to her face, the beautiful notes of the aria still ringing in her head, both her hearts heavy with grief at the unutterable tragedy she knew was waiting in the wings for this girl. Millennia didn't have long now before she and Rallon made the fatal mistake of joining Theta on his joy-riding expedition to the realm of the Toymaker, only to end up trapped for centuries. Even now, the remains of her young life were being measured by the inexorable ticking of the clock.

_It isn't fair! _Tejana thought passionately, sudden rebellion surging inside her. _One word from me and_ _I can change it all. They can be together, the way it should have been, before Theta interfered. They can get married, have children, live a long and happy life..._

However, as much as she longed to warn Millennia, she knew that she couldn't. If the Celestial Toymaker didn't absorb Rallon, the Doctor might never be able to eventually defeat him, which would have been disastrous for the Universe. Millennia's tragedy had happened centuries before Tejana was born. It was over – done and dusted – and she wasn't able to change it. Dyoni was wrong, she wasn't a saviour. And Koschei was wrong – just because you were a Time Lord didn't give you the right to do whatever you wanted. But knowing all that didn't make her feel any better about any of it.

"I thought it was wonderful," she answered huskily, careful not to meet Millennia's eyes. "And I think...I'm _sure_...Lord Rallon already knows exactly how you feel, my lady."

Millennia smiled back happily. "It's Kat, isn't it?" she said, as Tejana moved across to start stripping the bed. "You cleared our table at dinner the other night. Theta was looking for you earlier."

Tejana's hands tightened on the sheet she was holding. "He was?"

"Yes. I distinctly remember him asking me if I'd seen you today."

A small fizz of excitement buzzed inside Tejana's stomach. It could only mean that her father had something to tell her, something to do with the cracks. Trying to keep her voice calm, she asked, "You don't happen to know where he is right now, do you, my lady?"

"Oh, yes," Millennia responded. "He's in an Infinite Regression Mathematics class with Koschei. Which, by the way, he's failing, so hopefully he's keeping his mind on what he's supposed to be doing." She paused for a moment, as if puzzling over what to say, and then added seriously, "You need to be careful with Theta, Kat. You'd be better off with Koschei."

Tejana's eyes widened in shock and her head shot up as if her neck was a loaded spring. "I beg your pardon?"

"I know it's none of my business," Millennia continued, a flush colouring her cheeks. "And I know the entire Deca thinks that I'm stupid and vague and don't notice things. But I see more than they realise and I couldn't help noticing the way Koschei looked at you the other night at dinner. It can't be easy for someone in your situation, Kat, but if you were thinking of making a...liaison...with one of them...well, I just thought I should warn you. I've known them both for such a long time and I love them both dearly, but Theta... You have to understand, Theta's wonderful and warm and caring and he attracts others, like a beacon of light. But he doesn't like being responsible for people. Maybe one day, he will learn how. However, right now, all he wants to do is to escape out into the Universe and run until he can't run any more. If you get involved with him, you'll only end up being left behind."

Tejana stared at her, suddenly remembering what it felt like to be a lonely eight-year-old child, abandoned by the only parent she had left. She'd never actually had a choice about whether or not she got involved with the Doctor, fate had taken care of that. But she had still been left behind, nonetheless. Millennia's words were almost like a prophecy, in a weird, backwards sort of way – a prophecy that would one day come true.

"And...Koschei?" she whispered, almost afraid to ask.

"Koschei comes across as arrogant and domineering and obsessive," Millennia replied. "And he is all those things. Nevertheless, he will _always_ take care of what is his, that's just his nature."

_You were never stupid, _Tejana thought incredulously. _You saw them all so clearly, more clearly than they ever saw themselves. Why, oh why, Millennia, could you not see what was coming for you?_

The stunned expression on Tejana's face evidently made Millennia uncomfortable, because she gave a self-conscious laugh and began to apologise. "I'm sorry, Kat, I shouldn't interfere in your life. I suppose it's just that Rallon and I are so perfectly happy together and I want the whole world to be as happy as we are!"

As she spoke, she twirled her fingers across the beams of the laser harp, releasing another flood of glorious melody. Tejana never knew what she would have said in reply to this innocent, heart-breaking comment, because at that moment there was a loud smashing sound and a furious scream of rage echoed from further up the corridor.

* * *

_**Another Author's Note:**_

_**Okay, so I had to include a bit about the love story of Rallon and Millennia, because I think it's so terribly sad. If anyone is interested in the canon behind this, it's from a Fifth Doctor novel called "Divided Loyalties", by Gary Russell. Maybe one day I will write a story about it, since I love a good tragedy.  
**_

_**Next chapter: The Master reveals himself to Tejana on Gallifrey...  
**_


	14. Chapter 14

**_Author's Note:_  
**

**_Hello everyone! So sorry about the delay in posting this - I've had a crazy week, as well as some computer problems. Also, if you've sent me a message and I haven't answer yet, please forgive me - I will get to you, I promise :)  
_**

**_Besides, it took me a very long time to write this one, because I wanted to get the dancing scene at the end just right, the way I imagined it in my head. Hopefully, I've succeeded. I've been looking at it for so long now I don't know which way is up :S  
_**

**_Anyway, thanks very much to the following wonderful people for reviewing the last chapter: MayFairy, MountainLord-92, pattibon, gallifrey calls now, Theta'sWorstNightmare, The Wicked Heart, Ahsilaa, SawManiac211, Ant-Carrying-A-Rubber-Tree, Geraldine, EmmaMarie, sailormajinmoon, Vincenth, Aietradaea, EDZEL2 (x 2), Imorgen and silentnight._**

**_Especially big welcome to my new reviewers Ant-Carrying-A-Rubber-Tree and Vincenth, so lovely to hear from you :)  
_**

**_To geraldine: You're very welcome for the quick update last time - so sorry I couldn't repeat the performance this time around, LOL.  
_**

**_To sailormajinmoon: Thanks so much for the review - I think we can safely assume that the Chaos-Master won't stay in the Pandorica indefinitely :)  
_**

**_To Silentnight: Thanks for checking so regularly. Hopefully the chapter was worth waiting for XXX  
_**

**_Also, big HAPPY BIRTHDAY to EDZEL2 - this chapter is dedicated to you. (Although I'm still horribly jealous over your experiences at the Cheltenham Literature Festival, sigh...)  
_**

**_And...lastly...WARNINGS: Yep, sexual content warning in this one, you heard it here first :P  
_**

* * *

**- Chapter Fourteen -**

"_I love to watch a woman dance  
She bows her head and lifts her hands  
Her hips begin to circle slowly  
Her eyes have closed; her face is holy  
She holds the whole world in trance  
I love to watch a woman dance  
Yeah, I love to watch a woman dance._

_She likes the slow songs of love lost_  
_They take her a million miles away_  
_'Cause to dream, sometimes, is the only way_  
_To go places you can't get to any other way_  
_Our eyes connect; she takes my hand_  
_I love to watch a woman dance_  
_Yeah, I love to watch a woman dance._

_I feel my heart beating, and I wonder  
Will it ever satisfy my longing?  
I'm gonna hold on to you for as long as I can  
For who knows, this dance may be our only dance."_

_- The Eagles, __I Love To Watch A Woman Dance_

* * *

Tejana and Millennia exchanged a startled glance and then raced simultaneously for the door, heading for the source of the commotion. A screeching female voice was emanating from one of the other rooms, harsh and strident with fury.

"That's Ushas!" Millennia exclaimed.

Leading the way, she hurried into Ushas's room, with Tejana close on her heels. Inside, everything was in a shambles. The floor was littered with shards of broken glass, interspersed with pools of shimmering blue liquid. In one corner, crouched on the floor like an animal, Dyoni cringed, with Ushas looming over her. The Time Lady's arm was upraised, her face contorted and ugly with rage. A glaring red mark on Dyoni's cheek gave mute testament to the fact that Ushas had already struck her at least once.

"Ushas!" Millennia cried, her voice sharp with shock. "What on Gallifrey are you doing?"

Ushas spun around and glared at her. "This stupid little bitch has just destroyed my experiment isolating and synthesising the adenosine triphosphate of a Gallifreyan woprat!" she spat.

"A Gallifreyan woprat?" Millennia echoed, wrinkling her nose. "Aren't they supposed to be extinct?"

"Exactly! Which is precisely why it's been so difficult to do!" Ushas shrieked. "I've had to work with stored DNA from the archives. It's taken me weeks! And now it's all for nothing!"

"I'm so sorry, milady," Dyoni whimpered, her hand raised over her face, as if to defend herself from a rain of blows. "It was an accident, I swear."

Ushas turned on her venomously. "Do you think I care to hear your whining excuses?"

She raised her arm again and Dyoni cried out in fear. Tejana knew that it wasn't a good idea to draw Ushas's attention to herself, but she couldn't sit back and allow her to strike Dyoni again. She was often impatient with the other maid-servant herself, but the girl meant well and, after what had happened to Minya, she had been through more than enough already. Without hesitation, she slipped across the room and crouched down, putting her arm around Dyoni's quivering shoulders, thereby ensuring that her body was positioned between the Time Lady and the terrified girl.

"That's enough," she said coldly, glancing up at Ushas's enraged face. Then, as an obvious after-thought, she added on, "My Lady."

"YOU!" Ushas hissed, beside herself with fury. "Theta's little whore! Oh, I should have known _you'd_ be involved in this somewhere."

"Don't be ridiculous, Ushas!" Millennia spoke up, her manner no longer gentle and vague, but sharp and commanding, every inch a Lady of the House of Brightshore. "Kat was with me in my room at the time of the accident. She had nothing to do with it. And she's quite right, this has gone far enough. Obviously, the girl didn't do it on purpose. Besides, I'm sure you can easily recreate your experiment from your notes. There's no need for all this...ugliness."

Ushas opened her mouth to say something scathing, only to close it again at Millennia's pointed glare. There was something very imposing about Millennia when she was roused, Tejana thought. So many people seemed to write her off and overlook her, but behind that soft, dreamy exterior, she had a backbone of steel. If she'd ever had a chance to mature as a Time Lady, she would have really been quite amazing.

"Now, I'm hoping that will be an end to it," Millennia continued imperiously. "After all, I'm sure you wouldn't like Lord Borusa to hear you've been violent with the servants again, Ushas. Not when you've already been cautioned about such behaviour before."

The inherent threat in her words was more than obvious, and Ushas clearly knew it.

"I have a one-on-one Quantum Physics exam with Cardinal Lenardi in half an hour," she said in a surly, defiant voice. "If I miss it, I'll have to repeat my entire semester. This mess had better be cleared up by then!"

Tejana's ears pricked up at this interesting information. _So missing the exam would mean Lady Ushas had to repeat the whole semester? Oh dear, now that WOULD be a shame!_

"I'll clean it up," she volunteered. "Dyoni, why don't you go with Lady Millennia and finish up in her room?"

Still trembling, her face wet with tears, Dyoni allowed Tejana to help her to her feet and gratefully left the room. Millennia gave Ushas one last hard stare before following her.

Tejana bent down and began to gather together some of the scattered shards of glass, her mind racing. She knew she couldn't save Millennia. As much as she wanted to, it was out of the question. But that didn't mean she couldn't change _some _things while she was here. Ushas needed to be taught a lesson and it was within her power to do it. Her thoughts went to her young father, sitting in his Infinite Regression Mathematics class. He was currently failing the subject, Millennia had said. But Tejana _knew_ he ended up passing, and all because he was expertly tutored by a boy who would grow into a man that could eat Infinite Regression Mathematics for breakfast. A man who could create the entire town of Castrovalva as a recursive occlusion merely by manipulating the equations he pulled from Adric's head.

_A man who would one day compress all that knowledge, all that ability, into a small laser screwdriver. _

Her fingers slid to the heavy folds of her skirt, feeling the comforting weight of the slender, silver rod she had secreted in the inner pocket. She was aware she would be in all sorts of trouble if anyone discovered it, but after Anzor's attack, she was determined never to be so defenceless again. Next time, the young Koschei might not be around to save her.

Her idea was a simple one – possibly risky, but ultimately worth it. She was more than tired of being pushed around and continuing to put up with it went against her essentially proud nature. Just a little change then...not much more than a prank. A 'cheap trick', as the Doctor would have said. But, even as she considered it, she felt a twinge of caution in the back of her mind. Perhaps she shouldn't...perhaps she should just let it go.

"You're not fooling anyone, you know," Ushas said, her harsh voice breaking in on Tejana's thoughts.

Tejana raised her head. "I beg your pardon?"

"I've got you all figured out," Ushas sneered.

A faint, ironic smile crossed Tejana's face. "I doubt that very much."

"An uppity little servant girl, swanning around like a lady, trying to improve your lot by crawling into bed with your betters! Do you really think you're the first one to try it? Theta feels sorry for you, that's all. And as for Koschei, he'll never contaminate himself with a lowly servant!"

Despite her resolve to keep a cool head, Tejana could feel her temper rising and her smile tightened dangerously. "Is that so? Then why are you so jealous...my lady?"

"Jealous!" Ushas hissed. "Me, jealous of a low-blood Shabogan? How _dare_ you? I'm warning you, you'd better keep a respectful tongue in your head, girl!"

Slowly and haughtily, Tejana rose to her feet, the blistering anger inside her suddenly spiralling out of control. "Or you'll _what?_"

Ushas stared at her in disbelief. She was obviously unused to servants talking back to her. Tejana knew she was taking an enormous risk by challenging the other woman, but she couldn't seem to stop herself. "You can try to hit me if you like. But you needn't think I'll just stand here and take it like Dyoni."

The words were a bluff – thanks to Anzor, she didn't have enough strength to take on a mouse, let alone someone as strong as Ushas. But she raised her chin and locked eyes with the other Time Lady, not allowing any of her weakness to show. She could see the icy hatred in Ushas's gaze as she sorted through her options, easily guessing the thoughts that were passing through her mind. After Millennia's words of warning, she couldn't afford to physically chastise Tejana. But there were plenty of other ways she could make a servant girl's life miserable. All she needed to do was wait for the opportunity.

"You haven't heard the last of this. You're going to be very sorry you crossed me, you little slut!" she said through gritted teeth. "Now get back to work!"

Insolently, Tejana dipped in a deep curtsey. Furious at having to back down, Ushas turned away and began to sort loudly through her papers, as if preparing for her imminent exam took supreme pre-eminence over disciplining a wayward servant-girl. But Tejana was left in no doubt that, if they hadn't been enemies before, they certainly were now.

Swiftly, she completed the cleaning up, leaving the floor spotless, aware that Ushas constantly watched her out of the corner of her eyes. With everything done beyond reproach, she bobbed a farewell curtsey in Ushas's direction, which the other woman studiously ignored, before moving towards the door. She paused in the doorway, one last stab of indecision assailing her. Then she slipped her hand into her pocket and activated the necessary controls on the laser screwdriver. Immediately, she felt a tiny hum shiver over her skin as the recursive time loop settled into place, blocking off the doorway of Ushas's room.

A small, hard grin crossed her face as she continued on her way down to the kitchen to receive her next duty assignment.

_What a pity - it looked like Lady Ushas wouldn't be making her oh-so-important exam after all!_

* * *

Several hours later, Koschei Oakdown strode down a corridor in the guest wing of the Academy, his entire body as taut as a wire, every single muscle clenched as he fought to keep in the rage and hurt and frustration that boiled inside him. It was only through a supreme effort of self-control that he managed not to punch and kick at the walls, screaming like an angry child.

It was always the same, whenever he saw his father. Lord Oakdown regularly visited the Academy, to check up on his son's progress. Koschei would receive a summons to attend his father in one of the guest suites, and he would have to arrive at the specified time, regardless of his own schedule, like some sort of underling called to a job interview. Once he arrived, his father would greet him with a brusque nod and tell him to be seated. There was never any sort of affectionate gesture between them, no hugs, not even a smile, most of the time. After that, he would be subjected to an exhaustive interrogation regarding his recent activities. His overall academic standing in his class, the marks he was receiving in each specific subject, his athletic victories, his social connections. On and on it went, a barrage of sharp, icy questions, until his father was satisfied he knew every detail. And always, no matter what Koschei's achievements had been, they were never good enough. Even if he was top of his class, Lord Oakdown would always say he could have done better, if only he wasn't so lazy, if only he would try harder. And always – always! - Koschei would leave the room feeling as if a herd of elephants had just trampled over his self-esteem.

It had been no different this time. There had been the usual blighting criticisms of his performance, the usual exhortations not to shame his family, the usual stern command to stay away from Theta – as if _that_ was going to happen! Theta was his best friend and always would be. Koschei couldn't care less about the political standing of Theta's family or whether he was a bad influence. Sometimes Koschei thought that his friend was the only thing that kept him even remotely sane. He had no intention of allowing his father to separate them, no matter what Lord Oakdown had to say.

The only interesting thing that had eventuated from this visit was his father's instruction to take extra care after what had happened to Anzor. It had been on the tip of Koschei's tongue to retort that, since his father found him such an unrewarding son, he was surprised he cared so much for his welfare. But of course, he didn't, because he already knew what the answer would be. Whatever his perceived failings, he was still the heir of Oakdown, the one who was destined to carry on his family name, and therefore his safety was paramount.

But, from what Lord Oakdown had told him, the Time Lords were currently at a loss to explain Anzor's injuries. The Chancellery Guard were still investigating, but at this stage, they had uncovered no suspects. Koschei could only hope, both for his sake and Kat's, that no-one ever discovered what had happened in the Refectory that night, because he had no doubt that it would look very, very bad. Especially since he still had no real idea what had happened. He was still unable to account for the time he had lost between leaving Drax in the Deca common room and seeing Anzor running away from the Refectory. Even worse, every now and then, he was still getting the insane feeling that something was stalking him - even though, whenever he looked behind him, there was never anything there.

As his father kept talking, droning on and on about what a terrible loss Anzor was, Koschei's thoughts had immediately flown back to Kat, renewed anger surging inside him as he remembered how small and broken she had looked, lying on the floor of the Refectory after Anzor's attack. In his opinion, the President's son had gotten off very, very lightly, whatever the hell had happened to him. After that, he couldn't stop his mind drifting onwards, to how exciting Kat had felt in his arms and how right it had felt to have her in his bed.

One of Lord Oakdown's earlier decrees had been that Koschei would take the Lady Ushas to the Otherstide Ball. Ushas was the great-niece of the current Chancellor, Lord Umbast, and was therefore high on Lord Oakdown's list of suitable companions for his son. Ordinarily, Koschei would not have cared one way or the other. He had escorted Ushas to the Ball before and, as much as they didn't particularly like each other, at least they were very compatible in bed, so they had always managed to have some fun together, both at the Ball and afterwards. Koschei wasn't interested in any sort of relationship with Ushas, and she was obsessed with Theta, so their occasional sexual interaction was easy and pleasant – physical satisfaction with absolutely no strings, together with the added benefit of keeping their respective families off their backs.

But this year – this particular Otherstide Ball – it wasn't what he wanted at all. He wondered what his father would say if he told him that the only person he wanted to dance with, in every conceivable sense of the word, was a tiny Shabogan servant girl, with hair like molten copper and lips as sweet as honey. The very idea of admitting such a forbidden desire to his cold, autocratic sire was so ludicrous that it nearly made him laugh out loud. Even though it might be worth it just to see the look on his father's face, he knew that if one word of his interest in Kat reached Lord Oakdown's ears, she would mysteriously disappear from the Academy and he would never see her again. His father was notoriously ruthless when it came to safeguarding the family name and he had unlimited resources to get whatever he wanted.

_No_, he thought to himself as he hurried down the passageway, happy that each step was putting more distance between himself and his father. _I'll need to be much more careful than that._

And, in that moment, he realised that it was no longer a question of whether he would take Kat for his own. Instead, it had merely become a question of how and when. Now that he had held her in his arms, all his previous hesitations had vanished. The only important consideration was that he wanted her and he was determined to have her.

His mind flickered to her protests that morning that she already belonged to someone. A man back where she had come from, a lover who was not a good man and never would be. Koschei's eyes narrowed and a cold, cruel smile twisted his lips. He was the heir of Oakdown. He had warned Kat that the motto of his House was: '_To have and to hold'. _Now she needed to learn what it meant. Perhaps it was time to take a leaf out of his father's book. If there was an obstacle in the way of getting what he wanted, it needed to be removed, by whatever means required.

All he had to do was to take a little trip down to Low Town to find out everything he needed to know about Kat's unknown suitor. After that, arranging to take the other man out of the equation should be a simple matter. And then Kat would be all his.

Of course, there were far too many risks in venturing into a nest of vipers like Low Town alone. However, he was sure he could tempt Theta into coming with him, without ever telling his friend his real reasons for going. In fact, he knew Theta so well, he could probably even convince the other boy the enterprise was all his own idea without too much trouble. He often manipulated Theta, usually for his friend's own good, and Theta was so naïve he very rarely noticed. Once the idea was raised, the more reluctant Koschei appeared to be, the more intrigued and eager to go Theta would become.

Satisfied with his plan, he reached into his back pocket and withdrew his student data tablet. With a few, swift, skilful commands, he used it to hack into the Academy's staff rotation records. According to today's schedule, Kat was currently assigned to preparing the Academy Ballroom for the upcoming Otherstide celebrations.

His eyes hardened with purpose. He wanted to see her and he would - to hell with his father. In fact, the knowledge that Lord Oakdown was in the building while he held her in his arms would only make the experience all the sweeter.

Kat was his forbidden fruit and, no matter what, he was determined to taste.

* * *

Tejana had worked hard for several hours with the other servants, cleaning the enormous room the Academy used for its formal occasions. The Otherstide Ball was only a few days away now and Fionnula had instructed that every surface had to be gleaming by the time they finished. No easy task, given the size of the room, even with the sophisticated sanitation equipment they had to work with. The only good thing about such monotonous, repetitive labour was the amount of time it gave you to think, since doing the same thing over and over again required little in the way of brain power. The bad thing was that Tejana's mind had been going around and around in circles, with no solution to her predicament presenting itself. Every way she turned, there were more questions without answers, more problems she couldn't overcome.

Exhausted, she straightened her back and wiped her forehead with the sleeve of her dress, wishing she had a cool, damp cloth instead. Her head was aching and she felt nauseous. She wasn't sure whether her symptoms were a residual effect of Anzor's attack or whether the baby in her belly was objecting to the amount of strenuous physical activity she was undertaking. Either way, the end result wasn't pleasant.

To her surprise, she realised the other servants were all downing tools and filing out of the room.

"Dinner time," Dyoni said cheerfully, her earlier clash with Ushas apparently forgotten, at least for the time being. "Come on, Kat. We'll finish this later."

Just the thought of eating anything made Tejana's stomach roil violently. Suddenly, all she wanted was some time to herself, away from everybody else.

"Thanks, but you go ahead, Dyoni," she replied. "I'm not hungry."

Dyoni looked at her in concern. "Are you feeling all right? You look very pale. If Lord Anzor hurt you..."

"No, no! Really, I'm fine!" Tejana insisted, desperate now for Dyoni to just go. "I just need some peace and quiet for a bit. I'll wait here until you all get back."

The other girl hesitated, but then nodded. "All right, then. I suppose there's no harm now in leaving you here alone. You know where we are if you need anything. Sit down and rest."

Obediently, Tejana sank down on to a nearby chair. Dyoni fussed over her for a few annoying moments, before finally heading for the door. Watching her finally depart, Tejana sighed in relief and dropped her head into her hands, drinking in the sudden cool silence like a tonic.

* * *

Concealed behind a pillar outside one of the entrances to the upper galleries of the ballroom, Koschei was able to look down on the wide foyer below, watching the stream of servants leaving by the main doors and heading for the internal transmat terminal. Cursing to himself, he realised that he had arrived right on the staff dinner hour, which was held considerably earlier than the student meal time. He would never be able to catch Kat and secretly draw her aside in this melee of people. Carefully, he scanned the laughing, chattering crowd, searching for the betraying flame of her hair. But he couldn't see her anywhere. Little by little, the surge thinned, until it became a trickle. Leaving last of all, he saw the maidservant who had been cleaning his room with Kat the day before. But the Shabogan girl was not with her. After that, no-one else emerged from the doors. Puzzled, he waited for a few more moments, to no avail. Had he missed her, somewhere in the crowd? She was tiny enough to be easily overlooked. But surely he would have noticed her hair, since he had been looking so closely. No, he would swear that she hadn't been there.

Frowning, he turned back towards the gallery entrance. Opening the door as quietly as possible, he slipped inside. He had never seen the huge ballroom so still and empty before. Whenever he had previously been here, it had been decorated with banks of sweet-smelling flowers and glittering lights, every available space thronged with people. Looking down from the shadowy balcony, he saw that the room currently had only one occupant, a small, slender, copper-haired figure sitting on a chair.

_Kat! _As he recognised her, the drums began to pound inside his head, excitement skittering along his veins. It seemed far too good to be true, finding her alone like this. But who was he to argue with fate? Especially when fate was being considerate enough to give him exactly what he wanted.

However, before he could move, he saw her get to her feet. From this distance, he couldn't see her face clearly, but her head was tilted, as though she was listening intently to something. To his surprise, she began to sway gracefully, her arms and feet moving in delicate accord, sweeping her across the floor in a series of intricate steps. He caught his breath as incredible understanding dawned on him. She was dancing...and not just any dance...she was dancing the ancient steps of Otherstide.

Entranced, he stared down at her, his eyes hungrily following every lissome movement. Even though she didn't know he was there, it was as if she was dancing just for him, every step calling to him, an irresistible siren's call of desire he couldn't ignore.

Silently, as if caught in a dream, he moved purposefully towards the grand staircase.

* * *

Left alone in the enormous, echoing ballroom, Tejana found herself looking around and thinking of her own youth on Gallifrey. It was incredible to think that this was centuries before she was even born, and yet everything looked exactly the same as she remembered it. The wide upper galleries, the sweeping staircase, the inlaid marble floor – all of it was so clear in her memories of her own past. She had danced here countless times at innumerable Otherstide Balls over the years, always with Damon as her handsome and attentive escort. In her mind's eye, she imagined the room crowded with students and teachers, the upper galleries full to bursting with people eating and drinking and laughing, the floor swirling with eager dancers, formally attired in all the colours of the rainbow. Her foot twitched involuntarily. She had always loved to dance. When she was young, it had been one of her favourite recreational activities. It had been so long since she had done it. Probably not since that light-hearted interlude in the TARDIS, waltzing with Jack, with the Doctor and Rose also merrily dancing nearby. Her cheeks coloured at the memory, recalling how warm and strong Jack's hands had been at her waist, how closely he had held her, how she had nestled so contentedly into his shoulder. A lifetime ago, now.

But Gallifreyan dancing had been different. So much more formal, so intricate and stately. And so much more meaningful. Like all the festivals of her people, Otherstide was about more than just having fun, it was about solemn duty and ceremony. It was an occasion when the Time Lords across Gallifrey came together to celebrate and reaffirm exactly who and what they were. Every step of the ancient Otherstide dances were carefully choreographed to represent the power and the passion and the infinite majesty of the Time Vortex. It had been poignantly beautiful, tracing those mysterious and arcane patterns across the floor, feeling the potent vitality of her heritage surging through her veins, the pride of her birthright as a Lord of Time. Unlike Earth dancing, the participants rarely touched. Nevertheless, the atmosphere had been deeply sensual and intimate on every level, their bodies circling each other, coming together and drawing apart, just as the untold galaxies constantly revolved through the Universe in an elaborate dance older than Time itself.

Even though it had been so long ago, Tejana could still hear the music in her head - the wild, sweet, soul-stirring paean of melody; the driving, throbbing, almost tempestuous beat that echoed inside her hearts, epitomising the very essence of being a Time Lord. Without even thinking about it, she rose to her feet. Closing her eyes, she began to sway and spin, her delicate feet instinctively marking out the celestial rhythm that hummed through her body. Her movements were graceful and entirely feminine, representing the yin of the Universe, embodying all things shadowy, mysterious and hidden, soft and slow and yielding, reflective and enduring. In her head, she was no longer wearing the drab servant's dress, but was garbed in a traditional Gallifreyan silver gown, with full skirts as light as a cobweb, her hair flowing down her back and entwined with flowers. Opposite her danced an imaginary, faceless man, symbolically matching her yin with his yang, his movements open and overt, full of fire and heat and masculine hardness. Together, male and female, they were two aspects of the same reality; dependent, opposing forces that flowed in a natural cycle, always seeking balance, forever transforming each other. Like an undertow in the ocean, every advance across the floor was accompanied by a retreat, every rise in the dance transforming into a fall.

Serenity seemed to spread throughout Tejana's body, a sense of ultimate harmony taking the place of all her worries and cares. All that mattered was the intricate sychronicity of the dance. She was so caught up in the strange magic of the moment, it didn't even startle her when she felt warm fingers graze her own. Opening her eyes, she saw that her partner was no longer imaginary or faceless. Koschei Oakdown danced with her, each step powerful and assured and confident, completely attuned to her in every way. Not even questioning his presence - no longer thinking, but only feeling - she moved across the room with him, revelling in his male strength, both dominating and complementing her, assuaging her yearning need for completion. Their eyes met and held, their fingertips barely touching, and white-hot fire somersaulted through her. Dancing at Otherstide with Damon had been wonderful, but it had never been like this, so exultant, so alive, so _real_.

It seemed she wasn't the only one who felt it. Looking into Koschei's eyes as they circled together, she saw something dark and dangerous moving behind the blue, something that reached for her, untamed and hungry. He was so very young in this incarnation, but already he simmered with the barely-leashed power that would characterise his later regenerations.

As the dance drew at last to a close, they reluctantly stilled, facing each other across the marble floor, her hand still in his. As required by Gallifreyan protocol, he gave her a formal bow and she responded with a deep curtsey. But he didn't release her hand. Instead, keeping his eyes locked on her face, he raised it to his mouth and slowly brushed his lips over her knuckles. Tejana dragged in a sharp breath, her senses suddenly swimming. His lips were cool, but her skin burned where they had touched.

"Where did you learn to dance like that, Kat?" he asked, his fingers tight and imprisoning around hers. "Even most Time Ladies can't sense the ebb and flow of the Universe enough to dance the Otherstide steps that well. How is it that a Shabogan serving maid can put them all to shame?"

Instead of not breathing at all, Tejana now found she was breathing much too rapidly, her thoughts jumbled into disarray. When she was young, she had fantasised so often about dancing at Otherstide with Koschei Oakdown in this very ballroom. But it had only ever been a silly, secret daydream, because she had always known it was impossible. And yet here he was, so close, looking down at her with unmistakeable satisfaction in his navy blue gaze, evidently pleased at the sensual reaction he was evoking from her.

"I...I learned from watching others dancing, my Lord," she told him, speaking nothing but the truth, since she had observed the Otherstide dances since she was a tiny child of eight and a new initiate to the Academy. "I'm a quick learner."

His eyes darkened at her words, turning almost black with desire, lingering on her upturned face as if he was imagining a few things he would personally like to teach her. "And is that the only dance you've learnt?" he murmured huskily. "Or are there others?"

She swallowed hard, aware that she was once again treading on very dangerous ground. "I don't know what you mean, my Lord."

Turning her hand, he pressed a searing kiss into her palm, leaving her under no illusion as to what sort of dance he was referring to. "I think you do. Dance with me, Kat. And this time, don't stop."

What he wanted from her was more than evident in the glint in his eyes and the arrested anticipation in his tall, slim body. Her response was instant, something hot and needy stirring inside her. Before she knew what she was doing, her tongue came out, licking her lips and leaving them slightly parted. His gaze lowered and, with a guttural curse, he pulled her hard against him and savagely took her mouth. Some part of her mind was trying to remind her just how dangerous he was, but the rest of her just wasn't listening. Pure, erotic heat washed over her. The kiss teased and tantalised, promising so much more if only she would give into him. Despite her best resolve, her mouth opened to his, and she shuddered as he entered, his tongue both demanding and possessive as he took everything she offered. His hands gripped her small backside, angling her hips and lifting her against him, holding her firmly in place so she couldn't move. She could feel the rampant strength of his arousal thrusting explicitly against her belly. Forbidden delight flared inside her; an irresistible temptation to shift her hips against his hardness in wanton abandonment. At that moment, there was nothing she wanted more than to press herself against him, welcoming him to her, caressing him with her body. Sliding her hands up over his shoulders, she allowed her fingers to knead the powerful muscles in his back, before gliding further up to tangle in his soft, dark hair, pulling his head closer still.

He gave a moan of approval and deepened the kiss, even as one of his hands moved to the snap fastenings at the front of her dress, pulling them open, one by one. She felt his fingers slip inside, under the rough fabric, lightly stroking her naked breasts. She knew she was rapidly losing control of the incendiary situation, but she didn't want him to stop. Flames seemed to follow his touch, trailing heat in his wake. She was caught in a swelling tide of desire she couldn't seem to stem. Her body felt hot and heavy, aching with need as his fingers grew more demanding, no longer light and insubstantial, but caressing her in an insistent, erotic rhythm designed to drive her mad.

No-one else had ever been able to do this to her, no-one else had ever been able to exert this degree of control over her. He was the yang to her yin, the only one she would ever want to dance this oldest of dances with. Just him. Only him.

"Koschei," she sobbed, fighting for breath, unable to focus, unable to think, her body mindlessly screaming for more. "_Master._"

He growled, deep in his throat. "Oh, yes, Kat. I like being your Master. I like it a lot."

Dismay rippled through her, reality at last beginning to filter through the obscuring sensual haze, as she realised the mistake she had made...the mistake she was still making. Desperately, she tried to pull back from him, but he wouldn't let her go. His hand moved to her hair, carelessly yanking it free from the restraining pins until it tumbled down her back.

"So beautiful!" he muttered, winding the long tresses tightly around his hand, holding her head still while his mouth hungrily explored first her lips, then the slim, vulnerable line of her throat.

All at once, without warning, his body seemed to go rigid, as if someone had just plunged a knife into his back. He was still holding her, but his arms were locked in place around her like an iron cage, his lips suddenly motionless against the soft skin of her neck.

"Koschei?" she cried, unsure what had happened, frightened by his unnatural stillness. "Lord Koschei!"

Slowly, he raised his head and looked at her. To her absolute and utter shock, she saw that, apart from a slender ring around his pupils, his eyes were no longer blue. Instead, they were an extremely recognisable whiskey-brown.

And when he spoke, his voice had transformed into a heart-wrenchingly familiar rasp.

"Hello, my Ana."

* * *

_**Author's Note: OK, there it is - PLEASE tell me you enjoyed it, because it took SUCH a long time to write **expires on to the couch!****_


	15. Chapter 15

_**Author's Note: **_

_**Thanks so much to all the people who took the time to review and make me a happy little vegemite. So big hugs to: GuesssWho, gallifrey calls now, EmmaMarie, Ant-Carrying-A-Rubber-Tree, MayFairy, vincenth, Ahsilaa, JessieDear13 (x 2), Theta'sWorstNightmare, MountainLord-92, irishartemis, TheWickedHeart, sailormajinmoon, silentnight, EDZEL2, TheWritingKat, The Mouse's Rose, Geraldine, Imorgen, pattibon, Lost Moon (x 2), and my favourite little barnacle, Aietradaea. You are all wonderful people – it's very nice to know people are still enjoying this series after so long.**_

_**To sailormajinmoon: Thanks as always – Tejana has a few more nasty shocks coming up for her in this chapter!**_

_**To silentnight: Yup, Tejana is definitely pregnant and the Master is definitely back, so look out, Gallifrey! Hopefully you are still checking and haven't given up on me :S**_

_**To Geraldine: Aw, thanks, that's very nice of you. Hopefully you enjoy this one too!**_

_**To Lost Moon: Yay, you are back! Thanks so much for both your reviews.**_

_**Thanks also from my heart to the people who have been reviewing my other couple of new stories, "Revenge, Best Served HOT!" and "The End Is Where We Start From" - your support is so very welcome! XXX**_

_**AND HAPPY BIRTHDAY – TO MEEEEEEE! Yup, it's my birthday today, but don't ask me how old I am, because I'll never tell. Somewhere between ten and sixty, that's close enough for you!**_

_**Hope you enjoy the chapter! **_

* * *

**- Chapter Fifteen -**

"_**I broke a thousand hearts, before I met you,  
I'll break a thousand more, baby, before I am through!  
I wanna be yours, pretty baby, yours and yours alone,  
But I'm here to tell ya, honey, that I'm bad to the bone."**_

_**- George Thorogood & the Destroyers, Bad To The Bone**_

* * *

As the Doctor had predicted, it was laughably easy for Hart to disengage the internal security restraints of the Pandorica. A few quick commands from his wrist-strap, coded to the correct frequency, and both the heavy shackles and the shoulder-yoke smoothly retracted, allowing the Doctor to step out of the imprisoning box.

Breathing in the dank air of the Underhenge, he couldn't help giving a deep shudder of relief. To think that he had been so keen for the Pandorica to open, so eager to unlock the mystery of what was inside. Definitely a case of curiosity almost killing the cat!

"Hart!" the Chaos-Master yelled. "HART! I'm warning you! If you don't get me out of here, I'll make you suffer in ways you never dreamed possible!"

Reaching into his pocket for his sonic screwdriver, the Doctor swung back towards the Pandorica. But he needn't have worried. Coldly and deliberately, his face calm and expressionless, Hart was already raising his arm and aiming the wrist-strap at the door mechanism. There was a soft click and the two open walls began to slide back together.

Viciously, like a trapped animal, the Chaos-Master fought its restraints, but to no avail. The Pandorica had been designed too well. Without help, there was no chance of escape. "No! Doctor, don't you _dare _leave me in here. I'll destroy you all! I'll disperse your atoms throughout the cosmos! I'll...I'll... Doctor! DOCTORRRRRRR!"

But the Doctor merely grinned and twinkled his fingers in a cheeky little wave. Then the walls of the prison box came together, cutting off the creature's vitriolic tirade of hatred, leaving behind nothing but a blissful silence. One by one, the circular locks clanked and whirled, as the external security devices re-set themselves, safely sealing the Chaos-Master inside.

"Guess that makes me the good wizard after all," the Doctor commented. "Blimey, that bloke talks more rubbish than the real Master and I _never_ thought I'd say that."

Gingerly, he rubbed the back of his neck, trying to ease his cramped muscles while warily eyeing Hart at the same time. "I don't think we've been properly introduced. Hello, I'm the Doctor. And you are...?"

The other man smirked, as if at some private joke he didn't intend to share. "Captain John Hart, at your service." Despite his injured arm, he still managed to bow with dramatic flair.

The Doctor raised his eyebrows. 'Captain John Hart'...the close similarity of the name to 'Captain Jack Harkness' didn't escape him. Too much of a parallel to be a coincidence, surely?

"Pleased to meet you, Captain Hart. And thank you for your help," he replied. He nodded towards the thick leather strap encircling the other man's wrist. "You seem to be very well-versed in the various uses of a vortex manipulator."

Hart shrugged. "I used to be a Time Agent."

"I see. You wouldn't happen to know a certain Captain Jack Harkness, by any chance?"

"Maybe." This time Hart's smile held a devilish gleam, one that the Doctor decided he didn't want explained, especially knowing Jack as he did. "I know a lot of people."

"And now you're travelling around the Universe with my daughter and the Master."

Hart nodded. "For now, yeah, that's about the size of it."

With the ease of long experience, the Doctor had no difficulty recognising the leashed violence that coiled inside the ex-Time Agent like a venomous viper. Despite his relaxed, charming exterior, John Hart had the eyes of a killer, danger surrounding him like an imperceptible aura.

Leaning over, Hart extended his hand to Rory and levered him back to his feet. "No hard feelings, right, Julius Caesar?" Then he gave the young centurion a salacious wink. "Well, not that sort of hard, anyway."

The Doctor sighed inwardly, still trying to get his head around the fact that this man and the Master were apparently Tejana's chosen companions.

"Is it just me, or has anyone else noticed that my daughter seems to have a definite taste for the bad boys of the Universe?" he muttered crossly.

* * *

Far away in both time and space, Tejana stared into a pair of inexplicably brown eyes and panic reared inside her like the crest of an enormous wave. Those eyes were centuries older than the face that held them. The younger version of the Master had gone, only to be replaced by someone..._something_... else altogether. Suddenly everything seemed to make a horrible kind of sense: the invisible creature that had been stalking her at Stonehenge; the unseen attacker that had dragged her away from her father into the crack in Time; the so-called "ghost" that had ambushed Anzor in his sleep...

One word screamed across her brain, written in foot high letters of fear: _CHAOS-MASTER!_

Without hesitation, she dropped her mouth to one of the hands that held her and bit down on into the wrist as savagely as she could, sinking her teeth deep into the flesh and drawing blood. He cursed in pain and relaxed his grip, just long enough for her to pull back her fist and punch him squarely in the jaw with all her strength. As he staggered backwards, she tore herself free and pelted full tilt towards the door. The urge to flee was purely instinctive, both her hearts pounding as if they were going to burst. She had no idea where on Gallifrey she could run to escape the Lord of Nightmares, but there had to be somewhere. There was no way she was going to just give up without a fight, not after everything she had gone through to destroy this vile creature on Mnemosyne.

But, despite the adrenaline of fear pulsing through her veins, she was injured and weak, while the possessed body of the young Koschei was strong and healthy and athletic. With a grunt, he shook off the effects of her punch and came after her. In three powerful strides, long before she reached the door, he caught up with her and seized her around the waist, sweeping her right off her feet. She scratched and struggled and kicked wildly, but it was no use, he was much too strong. Grasping her wrists tightly in one hand, he held her hard against him with the other, her back against his chest, forcibly restricting her movements, like a parent restraining a child having a tantrum.

"Calm down, Ana!" he gritted out. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"I _killed _you!" she hissed frantically. "John and I...we destroyed you back on Mnemosyne. How can you be here?"

"Just _listen_ to me! It's not what you think! I'm the real Master!"

"No! NO!" she cried, still struggling against him, tears of angry defiance sparkling in her eyes. "I don't want to hear any of your lies! The real Master is safe on board our TARDIS. I brought him back. He trusted me to save him and I did!"

He whirled her around to face him, his head bent until his lips were only inches from her own. She could feel the heat of his body searing across her breasts, making her hearts beat even faster. "I _am_ the Master," he assured her. "And you _did _bring me back. If you'd just stop...uh..." He broke off sharply, tightening his grip on her arms as she gave a particularly determined attempt to knee him in the groin. "If you'd just stop _fighting _me, I'll tell you what happened!"

Too exhausted to resist any further, she went limp in his grasp and glared hatred up at him. "Go on then, _tell_ me, before I spit in your face!" she snarled. He had to be lying. He just had to be. Because the alternative was just too awful to think about.

"The _Cruciform_ used my own memories to force a way into my mind, wanting me to set the Chaos-Master free. I held it off for a while, trying to buy you and Hart as much time as I could, but in the end it got through. I can't remember much after that, just that it was dark...so very cold and dark. Everything was empty and I was so lost, so far from everything I ever cared about. But then I heard your voice, piercing the nothingness, calling my name, calling me _home_. So I used it as a lifeline and I followed it. I could feel my body reforming around me and I could see your face...but then something hit me hard and forced me backwards. The next thing I knew, I was out of the body and he had taken possession of it. I was too weak from my battle with the _Cruciform_, I wasn't strong enough to stop him."

Her mouth went dry and there was a dull roaring sound in her ears, as the core certainties underpinning her universe began to waver beneath her. "You're trying to tell me that the Master who left Mnemosyne with us in the TARDIS was really the Chaos-Master," she said emptily.

"Exactly."

She shook her head, slowly at first, then faster and faster, over and over again in emphatic denial, not wanting to even entertain the idea. She had been so sure that everything would be all right once they left Mnemosyne, so sure she had won, so sure she had the man she loved back in her arms. How could she have been so wrong?

"No, that's a lie!" she cried painfully. "It's not possible! The Master's my life-mate! I would never have been tricked into accepting that monster in his place, not _ever_!"

"Ana, you opened yourself to the _Cruciform_ to bring me back. You allowed it past your defences into your mind. It forged a link with you and then he used it against you, to deceive you. You wanted so much for us to be together again – and he made sure that was all you saw."

Despite her stubborn refusal to believe what he was saying, Tejana found her mind going back to all the times after Mnemosyne the Master had seemed a bit off to her; how their psychic connection had never been quite the same; how their love-making, while still deliciously exciting, had occasionally struck ever-so-slightly the wrong chord, as if he was holding part of himself back from her...

For some reason, which was strangely unclear to her now, she had uncharacteristically shrugged it off, putting it all down to the trauma of their experiences on the Planet of Memory. Why hadn't she questioned it? After the life she had led, she very rarely accepted things at face value. Why hadn't she been suspicious? Was it true – had she been under some sort of psychic spell?

"No," she whispered to herself, the revulsion rising up to choke her as the sordid memories played out in front of her eyes. "I let him..._touch_ me. I let him...make _love_ to me. Oh gods, oh please no, it can't be true!"

His mouth tightened into a thin, harsh line at the mounting horror in her voice. She had stopped trying to struggle now, and his hands no longer imprisoned her. Instead, they stroked gently across her back in a caressing motion, as if he was trying to soften the impact of his words. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I'm so sorry. There wasn't anything I could do. I couldn't make you see me or hear me."

Anguished, her eyes shot to meet his. "You were..._watching_?" Somehow, just the thought of it made everything seem even worse.

A dark shadow of memory fell across his features, the brown eyes hardening into cold stone. "He made sure of it," he answered flatly. "It gave him pleasure to kill you and my child slowly while I was watching, laughing all the time because I couldn't stop him."

"_Kill_ us? What are you talking about?"

"He's an incubus, Ana. Every time he had sex with you, he was draining your life energy away to maintain his own existence in this reality," he bit out. His tone vibrated with barely-suppressed rage, lines of remembered pain etched into his face. "He _hurt_ you...every time, so badly...and all I could do was watch. But afterwards, he messed with your head and you never remembered...all you could remember was intense pleasure instead of intense pain."

"The bruises..." she murmured, chilled to the bone, suddenly understanding what a blind fool she had been. "The Doctor pointed them out at Stonehenge, but I'd never noticed them before."

"When you used the vortex manipulator to get to Stonehenge, you managed to put some distance between you and the Chaos-Master. The further you got from him, the clearer your perceptions became. You could even sense me following you, for the first time since Mnemosyne," he explained tautly. "But, by then, you were already in a critical condition. If he'd continued to feed from you, both you and our child were going to die. Then the crack opened up in the Underhenge and I decided that wiping you from Time was the only way to break the link with him and keep you safe. I can't control the opening and closing of the cracks, but because I'm not a part of this reality any more, I can negotiate my way through them once I'm inside."

"So you pulled me in and brought me here."

To Tejana's dismay, she realised that, deep inside, she was beginning to accept his story. It was as if she had been stumbling through a dark room and someone had just turned on the light, revealing horrors all around her she hadn't even dreamed had existed.

He nodded. "It wasn't easy, believe me, especially with you and the Doctor fighting me every inch of the way. It took nearly all my energy reserves. I was almost too weak to get us here safely."

"But why here? Why Gallifrey? Why break the Fourth Law of Time?"

"To bring us back to the Eye of Harmony. It was the only way. I knew you would need help to heal you of the damage he had done," he replied. "And I could draw on the power to restore my energy levels. Since we've been back in this time, we've both been growing stronger every day. That's why I was finally able to speak to you directly."

Her eyes searched his face. That ring of blue around his pupils...was that indicative that he didn't have complete control of the body? Was young Koschei still inside there somewhere, trapped and screaming? At the thought, one last flash of panicked stubbornness raced through her, and she pulled abruptly away from him, stepping backwards. He allowed her to retreat from him, making no move to stop her or seize her again.

"Why should I believe you?" she demanded passionately. "Why should I believe any of this? If I could be so wrong before...how am I supposed to know now what's real and what isn't?"

"Your link to the Chaos-Master was severed by the Time-fire inside the crack. There's nothing obscuring your perceptions now," he said. "Just open your mind to me, Ana, and you'll see the truth."

"Oh, you'd like that, wouldn't you?" She gave a harsh, cracked, contemptuous laugh. "Just how stupid do you think I am? Asking me to drop all my defences and just let you inside my head?"

He reached out and cupped her cheek, tilting her head up until her eyes met his. "On Mnemosyne, you learned enough about the _Cruciform_ to know that it can't lie. Psychic pollen will always corrupt the truth - distort it and misrepresent it in order to deceive - but it doesn't have the capacity to manufacture an outright lie. So, if I was the Chaos-Master, I couldn't say this to you: I'm the same man who held you in my arms for the first time when you were three months old; I'm the same man who found you in a greenhouse throwing tomatoes at a door when you were eight years old; I'm the same man who held you and took you for his own, that first time in The Matrix; I'm the same man who told you his true name on board the _Valiant_; I'm the same man who wound his marriage-flowers into your hair on the planet Mnemosyne. And I'm the same man who fathered the child in your belly, Ana. That was _me_, not the Chaos-Master."

Tejana gazed up at him, transfixed by the intense, burning brown of his eyes, so strange in the face of the young Koschei but still so familiar. So many different things she had seen in those eyes in their time together – hatred and blood-lust and insanity during The Year That Never Was; raw, unbridled desire in The Matrix; uncertainty and need on board the Ship of the Eternals; fury and pain and loss at the revelation of their Could-Have-Been-Son in the catacombs of Avalon; vulnerability and hope as he told her his true name; possessive, protective softness as he entwined the forget-me-nots into her hair in the moonlight; the fierce elation and pride when he realised she was carrying his son...

Now, looking into them once more, all she could see was..._truth._

Trembling, she stood on tiptoe and mirrored his action, raising her hand to cup his face, joining them together with her touch. She could feel his fingers against her cheek, and simultaneously, the warmth of his face under her own hand. Concentrating hard, she loosened her mental shields, while still keeping her actions carefully screened and isolated from the rest of the psychic link. Instead, she allowed the unique, special bond that existed only between them - as lovers, as life-mates - to open more fully and completely than she ever had before. Then she was falling into what seemed like an endless ocean and he was there, around her and through her and in her. He was part of her and she was part of him, every last secret laid bare; she could sense every breath he took, every heartbeat, as her own. She could feel everything he had felt, experiencing for herself his helpless rage as the Chaos-Master gleefully hurt her over and over, brutally taking her in the bed that had been theirs to share; sharing his pain as he watched her forget what had happened as soon as she woke. And in return, she shared with him her anguish, her sense of complete violation, that everything she had believed she was giving to him, and only to him, had been stolen from her and defiled by a monster. As the tumult of agonised emotion met and joined, a shudder of primal recognition ran through her body. The raw feelings surging between them could never be copied, never be replicated, never be falsified. And in that moment, she suddenly had no more doubts.

"Oh gods," she whispered. "It's really you."

He bent his head, his lips brushing hers. "Yeah, it's really me," he confirmed huskily.

Tears of grief rained down her face, her fingers moving to thread through the softness of his hair at the back of his neck. "_Amin Mekhil. _I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

"Don't say that!" he growled, pulling her close. "Don't _ever_ say that to me. You have nothing to be sorry for!"

Still the jagged sobs ripped through her. She usually managed to stay strong, no matter what happened, stubbornly refusing to let anything get the better of her. The Doctor had taught her that there was always hope in every situation, no matter how dire it seemed. But right now, she felt so tired and ill, so utterly spent and depleted, that she hardly even knew who she was any more. The Master's revelations had changed everything, breaking her deep inside. Such a short time ago, her life had seemed so right and perfect, so full of promise for their future together. But it had all been a lie. She hadn't saved him. Instead, she had allowed the Chaos-Master to win, to take her life-mate's body and to violate her in the most fundamental and soul-shattering way. Now she could see nothing but darkness waiting for them, every way she turned, and she wasn't sure she could keep on fighting this time.

He felt it through their link, the awful, black despair that was consuming her, sapping her willpower, draining her dry more effectively than the Chaos-Master ever had. Grasping her by the upper arms, he gave her a little shake.

"It's going to be all right, Ana, I promise you!" he told her. "I _will _make this right for us."

She stared back at him dully. "How can you, Koschei? You're no longer even corporeal. You're not much more than a ghost. How much energy are you burning up just to speak to me like this? And I don't even really exist any more – I've been wiped out of time. I have no identity, no history, no thread in the pattern of the Universe. And we're both trapped in a time that has no place for either of us. How can we ever be together? How can we raise our child?"

"There's a way," he replied, his eyes narrowing, as if wondering how much he should tell her. "There's always a way, if you're prepared to look for it."

"What way?" Apprehension lapped at the edges of her despair. As much as she loved him, the absolute ruthlessness at the core of his being still had the power to frighten her. He was capable of anything, she had known him far too long and too well to doubt that. "Koschei? If you've got some sort of plan, you need to tell me! How exactly are you planning to get us back to our own time?"

"I'm not," he responded tersely. "If we were to go back, the Chaos-Master would be able to finish what he started, and you and our son would die together. And away from the Eye of Harmony, I would eventually disperse and blow away in the wind."

"But you said there was a way..."

"Yes, a way to make a place for us here, on Gallifrey. I'm not strong enough yet to hold on to this body permanently, but before long, I will be."

The little colour that remained in her cheeks drained away. "_Permanently_? You're planning to take your younger self over _permanently_? Oh gods, you're talking about changing Gallifreyan history, aren't you? You can't do that! It's one of the fundamental rules we were taught as Time Lords. The history of Gallifrey is sacrosanct!"

"And where did their stupid bloody rules end up getting them, Ana?" he spat. "Dead! Destroyed! A billion years of Time Lord history wiped out in an instant. All that knowledge, all that superiority, all that dominance, just gone. What was the point of that? What did it achieve?"

"The Doctor _had_ to destroy them, you know that. You _know_ what they were planning. They were going to rip apart the whole of creation!"

"And I can change that, here and now!" His hands tightened on her arms, all his previous gentleness vanishing as he became immersed in the intricacies of his plan. "All I need is for an unfortunate accident to befall my father and then my younger self becomes the Kitriarch of the House of Oakdown. Such a powerful and influential family, so many resources at my command...who would dare to comment or criticise, even if the new Lord Oakdown was to flout every tradition and take a servant-girl to wife? Especially once my son and heir was born from the union."

Dismay tingled down her spine. His voice was so impersonal and matter-of-fact, as if he was talking about the weather instead of coldly planning to murder his own father. She had every sympathy for how he must feel. Lord Oakdown was an evil, vicious bastard who had systematically destroyed the lives of both his sons and burning in hell was too good for him. But that didn't mean she could condone his murder, however much it was deserved.

"They would never allow you to pollute the bloodlines like that!" she exclaimed, trying to make him see sense. "The Lord President would never sanction our marriage, not while he believed I was nothing more than a servant."

A small smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth. "Oh, I think Drall could be persuaded. Particularly if I could restore his son to health."

She stiffened in his arms. "So it _was_ you who attacked Anzor!"

"Of course it was me! He should never have dared to lay hands on what was mine!" he snarled. "The only reason I didn't kill him was because I thought he might come in useful later on, as leverage against Drall." His grin widened, his youthful face at odds with the hard purpose in his eyes. "And after our son is born, after my younger self graduates from the Academy to become a full Time Lord, it should be easy enough to use my knowledge of past events to topple the Lord President from his position. He's weak and ineffectual. Gallifrey will welcome a strong leader...a new Master." His gaze sought hers. "Don't you see, Ana? We can make a life for ourselves here, on our own planet, together. Our son will have the birth-right that's due to him, just as it always should have been. And this time, instead of sending the Doctor to prevent the genesis of the Daleks, as Lord President, I will make sure Skaro is blown to pieces before Davros is even born. Imagine it, Ana... a Universe in which the Daleks never existed."

At his words, something stirred inside her, an elemental response, something fierce and proud and war-like. He was so cunning. She might know him, but in the same way, he knew her, through and through, both her strengths and her weaknesses. He knew that the one thing she wanted above all others was to see the end of the Daleks, the enemy she hated beyond reason, once and for all. Nothing had ever tempted her as much as the vision of a Universe in which the Time War never happened.

"No," she breathed. "We can't."

Whatever he said, however beguiling his offer, she knew it wouldn't stop at Skaro. With the power of Gallifrey behind him, how many other planets would he subjugate, how many others would he destroy in his insatiable desire to rule? And if he changed Theta Sigma's timeline, as he no doubt would, there would be no Doctor to oppose his destructive whims, nothing to keep him from obtaining absolute power over the entire Universe.

"We can," he said inflexibly, lowering his mouth to hers. "And we will."

* * *

_**Another Author's Note: **_

_**Oh yeah, that's the Master all right – bad to the bone!**_

_**I've heard a little whisper that I'm writing too much...so if you think I'm updating too quickly, please let me know. I can always slow it down :)**_


	16. Chapter 16

_**Author's Note: **_

_**Hello! **waves** Not sure whether anyone ever actually reads these author's notes, but here I go anyway, just on the off-chance (there will be an exam later, by the way!)**_

_**Thanks to everybody who sent me birthday wishes, very kind of you all :) Also, thanks very much for all those who told me that I'm not rushing things or updating too fast, that is a big relief.**_

_**To Guest: Thanks for the review – yep, the Master has not really changed all that much, except that he has now added Tejana to the list of the things he wants. And he can't see why he can't own the Universe and her as well :)**_

_**To sailormajinmoon: Thanks for telling me how much you love to read my stories – I always love to get your reviews XXX**_

_**To Geraldine: Thanks for the birthday wishes, very glad you liked it!**_

_**To silentnight: Great to get your review and it's good to know my updating speed suits you OK! :)**_

_**To beautifulspace: You have no idea what a buzz it gives me when I get a new reviewer on this story, since they tend to be few and far between at this late stage in the series. So thanks so much for stopping by to give me some feedback, much appreciated!**_

_**WARNINGS: OK, **BIG** warning this time. This story has been busting to be an M-rated story from the very first moment I began it and I have finally given in and just changed the rating. So everyone please note, this is no longer T-rated, but is now M-rated and this chapter reflects that, with some relatively explicit sexual content (well, explicit for me, anyway). So, if that's likely to bother you, best if you don't read it, OK, because I would hate to offend anyone.**_

_**That being said, I hope everyone still manages to enjoy it **fingers crossed**!**_

* * *

**- Chapter Sixteen -**

"_**This is my timey-wimey detector. It goes ding when there's stuff. Also, it can boil an egg at 30 paces, whether you want it to or not, actually, so I've learned to stay away from hens. It's not pretty when they blow."**_

_**- The Tenth Doctor, Blink**_

* * *

"Wow, you're incredible, you know that?" Theta exclaimed, staring at the small device on the work-bench in unfeigned delight. "So simple and yet so perfect. Why on Gallifrey has no-one ever done this before?"

Drax straightened up and removed the magnifying ocular from his eye. "Probably because no-one's ever had any need for it. You're the first one to ever think of the concept."

The two of them were standing in one of the laboratories set aside for student experiments and scientific exploration. The table in front of them was littered with a variety of tools and materials, while all around them, other equally untidy work-benches held the odds and ends associated with a dozen different half-completed experiments. Currently, however, they were the only ones in the room, since everyone else had promptly headed off to the Refectory in response to the dinner bell.

"Yeah, but I could never have built it without you," Theta said, his voice full of honest admiration. "It's amazing."

Drax gave a modest little shrug. He had many failings, but an over-inflated ego wasn't one of them. He had never been particularly good at accepting compliments, even from his friends. "It's nothing, really. I'll show you how to do it if you want."

"Absolutely! That would be great! You never know when it might come in handy!" Theta agreed enthusiastically. "Have you decided what to call it?"

"Well, officially, I suppose it's a 'Rhondium Sensor', since it detects a build up of rhondium particles." Drax's face lit up in an impish grin, his eyes sparkling with laughter. "But I prefer to call it a 'timey-wimey' detector."

Accustomed to his friend's endearing brand of idiocy, Theta couldn't help grinning back. Drax was very rarely serious about anything, which was probably why he failed so many of his classes, despite his undeniable brilliance. "Timey-wimey?"

"Yeah, you know, when things are temporally out of whack."

"Timey-wimey," Theta echoed in amusement. The nonsensical phrase was typical of Drax, but he had to admit, it definitely had a ring to it. "I like it. Right, a timey-wimey detector it is! So how exactly does it work?"

Drax lifted the complex little device and set it on the palm of his hand. "Basically, it goes 'ding' when there's stuff," he answered. "Any kind of impending temporal disturbance or fissure."

"Seems straightforward enough," Theta said, stretching out his hand to take it.

Unexpectedly, however, Drax held it out of his reach. "So, when are you going to tell me what this is really about, Thete?"

"I...er...don't know what you mean," Theta replied, taken by surprise. Drax normally bumbled his way so cheerfully and obliviously through life, he hadn't expected him to ask any questions at all. It was one of the reasons why asking the other young Time Lord for some technical assistance had seemed like such a good idea.

"Oh, come _on_! You ask me to help you build an early-warning device that can detect cracks in the space-time continuum before they happen, and you don't think I'll wonder what you're up to?" Drax scoffed. "There's no way you'll ever find a temporal disturbance like that on Gallifrey. So this has to be part of some kind of prank you and Kos are cooking up, right?"

Theta shook his head in denial. It wasn't that he didn't trust Drax, but it wasn't his secret to share. Kat had seemed so utterly terrified of getting into trouble over her discovery of the crack and, whatever happened, he didn't want to lose her trust. For some reason, which he hadn't yet been able to identify, that was extremely important to him. He still wasn't sure why he felt so protective towards the tiny Shabogan servant girl, but he did, and unless it became totally necessary to tell anyone else about the cracks appearing on Gallifrey, he intended to stick to his promise to keep it to himself. So much so, in fact, that he hadn't even told Koschei, the best friend he usually shared absolutely everything with. Under those circumstances, he was hardly going to blurt the whole thing out to Drax, even if the other boy had helped him more than he would ever know.

"No, it's nothing to do with Koschei, I promise," he assured him. "And it's not a prank. It's just something I want to do for...um...for extra credit in Borusa's class."

"Extra credit...riiiiiight!" Drax replied, obviously not believing a word he had said. Which wasn't all that surprising, Theta thought wryly, considering how bad he was at lying. "Well, I guess if you won't tell me, I'll just have to pretend to be as surprised as everyone else when you pull off whatever stunt you're planning. It hasn't got anything to do with that creepy eye-changing trick of Koschei's, has it? Because that was just weird."

Theta frowned, not understanding what he was talking about. "What eye-changing trick?"

"That gag where he changes his eyes from blue to brown. Hasn't he shown you yet?"

"I haven't seen much of him over the last couple of days, to be honest," Theta replied.

The more he thought about it, the more he realised it was true. He really hadn't seen a lot of Koschei lately. He'd been so busy trying to find out some more information about the cracks in Time that he hadn't noticed his friend's absence as much as he usually would have. However, looking back, it was almost as if Koschei had been avoiding him. But that didn't make sense – they'd had a bit of an argument last night over Theta wanting to take Anzor on, but nothing too serious. And it wasn't as if Koschei could possibly know he'd been keeping secrets from him. So why on Gallifrey would he feel the need to stay away? Unless he was sulking again. Perhaps Theta had inadvertently offended him in some other way. He couldn't think of anything in particular he had done, but that didn't necessarily mean much - Koschei could be really touchy and competitive sometimes, often about the smallest things.

"Yeah, well, he really freaked me out when he did it to me," Drax was saying, unaware of Theta's sudden preoccupation. "I nearly wet myself. We were playing Sepulchasm in the common room last night and I was winning for once. Next minute, he just sort of collapsed on the table. When he sat up, his eyes had this burning brown ring around the iris. Then he said, 'Ana!' and ran out of the room at light speed. I haven't seen him since."

Theta was thoroughly confused by now. "Who's Ana?" he queried.

"Search me," Drax responded. "I thought you'd know."

"No idea." Theta's frown deepened. "But there seems to be a lot of really strange things going on around here lately."

_Cracks in Time manifesting on Gallifrey; the mysterious attack on Anzor, which he couldn't regret, but which bothered him nonetheless, a constant, niggling worry steadily boring away in the back of his mind; and now Koschei behaving so oddly... _

_And there, in the centre of it all, the strange little servant girl, who behaved like no servant girl he had ever known before, suddenly appearing from nowhere to join the staff of the Academy. Coincidence, perhaps...but he had always been taught that there was no such thing as coincidence._

Drax suddenly doubled over with laughter and slapped his knees in glee, startling him out of his thoughts. "Speaking of strange, did you hear what happened to Ushas?"

"Ushas? No, what?"

"Ha, it's a wonder she didn't find you to vent her spleen," Drax said with a malicious chuckle. "I mean, I've seen her angry before, but right now, she'd make an erupting volcano seem quiet and peaceful! _Somehow_, she managed to get stuck in a localised time loop in her room. Talk about a classic prank! I wish I'd thought of it! Apparently the loop activated when she walked towards the door to go to her Quantum Physics one-on-one with Cardinal Lenardi. And instead of leaving the room, she just kept repeating the walk to the door, over and over again. It was hours before anyone found her. Only, by then, she'd completely missed her exam. Odds are, she'll have to repeat the entire semester. Old Lenardi's not one to take excuses. The only reason he'd ever accept for missing an exam would be if you were dead, and then only if he was in a very good mood. Being stuck in a rogue time loop just doesn't cut it."

Theta's lips twitched as he imagined the proud and haughty Ushas stuck doing the same thing over and over again for hours, getting absolutely nowhere. All at once he understood why Drax thought it was so funny. As far as fitting punishments went, it couldn't have happened to a nicer person. He was only sorry he hadn't been there to see it.

"So? Why would she want to yell at me about it? I didn't have anything to do with it."

He wasn't quite sure why he was bothering to ask. These days, since the debacle of last year's Otherstide Ball, Ushas took any opportunity to yell at him. Sometimes she yelled at him when there was no opportunity at all.

"Maybe not, but she thinks your little servant girlfriend did," Drax smirked.

Theta's head shot up, his amusement dissolving into acute wariness at the snide comment. "_Kat? _ Why would she think Kat had something to do with it? To set up such a perfectly localised time loop, you'd need an expert knowledge of Infinite Regression Mathematics, as well as access to some pretty fierce technology. A Shabogan like Kat wouldn't have the faintest clue how to do it."

Even as he spoke, he was aware he was trying to convince himself as much as Drax. In the back of his head, alarm bells were ringing wildly.

_Again, another strange happening. And, again, there was Kat, right in the middle of it._

Drax shrugged. "Yeah, I know. Millennia already told Ushas not to be so ridiculous. But, according to Ushas, Kat was the only one in the room just before it happened. And you know what's she's like - once she's got an idea in her head, nothing short of a super-nova will get it out. All the same, I wish I knew who _did _do it! I'd like to shake them by the hand!" Carefully, he set the rhondium sensor back down on the work table. "Anyway, getting back to this thing, how about we give it a test run?"

"What?" Theta said abstractedly, his mind still wrestling with the worrying enigma that was Kat. "Oh...yeah. Sure. Sounds good."

"Like I said before, it's not as if we'll pick anything up here on Gallifrey," Drax commented, twiddling with a small dial on the front of the device. "But at least I should be able to evaluate the energy levels."

An almost imperceptible hum filled the air as the device activated, setting Theta's teeth on edge. Just then, a faint clucking sound reached his ears. Absorbed in the rhondium sensor, Drax didn't appear to notice. But Theta glanced around, puzzled, to see where the noise was coming from. Behind them, he saw the work-bench belonging to Gomer, a tall, thin senior student who had a reputation for taking his research extremely seriously. There was a fluffy brown chicken in a nesting box sitting on the bench. Theta remembered it was a test subject in a series of meta-biological experiments Gomer had been running, attempting to artificially stimulate increased egg production amongst the Academy's chickens. Strangely, it seemed the hen could also sense the temporal vibrations emanating from Drax's device, since she shifted uneasily and fluffed out her feathers.

Then there was a tiny and wholly unexpected 'ding'.

"That's weird," Drax said.

Forgetting about the chicken, Theta hurriedly returned his attention to his friend. "What?"

"Well...the sensor's actually picking something up. It's very weak, so I'm not quite sure..." Drax frowned and gently shook the device. "Nah, it has to be some sort of glitch. Maybe if I increase the energy levels it will even out."

He twisted the dial even further to the right. In the background, the clucking noise got louder, as if the hen was getting even more distressed. But this time Theta didn't even bother to look around. _If Drax was really picking up another crack brewing_... both his hearts clenched in horrified excitement at the possibility.

"Well?" he prompted.

"Not sure," Drax responded. "The results are still inconclusive. Maybe if I turn it up to maximum..."

And again, he turned the dial, twisting it all the way around, as far as it would go. But this time, the cackling from the hen was so loud, neither of them could ignore it. They both swung around, only to see the beleaguered bird frantically hopping up and down, flapping her wings in a flurry of crazy movement, as though someone had shoved a red-hot poker underneath her.

"What the hell..?" Drax murmured, staring in astonishment.

The clucking grew more and more piercing and the hen's movements more and more jerky. As he watched, startled, a premonition of disaster shivered through Theta's brain. "Drax," he said urgently. "I think you should turn it..."

But before he could complete the sentence, there was a loud, moist sound that sounded like 'Thwack!', only a lot more repulsive, and the hen exploded in front of their eyes, pieces flying in a dozen different directions around the laboratory.

"...off!" Theta finished with a groan.

A small click echoed through the room as Drax numbly returned the dial to its original setting. After that, there was no sound at all, just a cloud of soft, brown feathers floating down around the two stunned boys, as the pathetic remains of the hapless chicken drifted lazily to the floor.

"Um...Drax?" Theta's voice fell into the silence like a rock into a pond.

The other boy cleared his throat. "Yeah, Thete?"

"You just blew up Gomer's chicken."

Drax slowly turned his head towards him, his eyes wide with shock. "Yeah, I kind of noticed that," he croaked, his tone tight with suppressed panic. "That wasn't meant to happen! And Gomer isn't exactly known for his sense of humour."

The two boys exchanged an alarmed glance, both of them visualising Gomer's retribution descending on their heads. Then, as if by common consent, they simultaneously headed for the door as fast as they could, with Drax only pausing for half a second to sweep the prototype rhondium sensor safely into one of his capacious pockets. There was a momentary struggle as they both tried to get through the exit at the same time, the resulting collision catapulting them out into the passageway in an undignified tangle of arms and legs. Quickly regaining his balance, Theta straightened his jacket, shoved his hands nonchalantly into his pockets and began to saunter away, while beside him, Drax plucked a betraying feather out of his hair and whistled a casual tune as he walked, both of them endeavouring to look as if they hadn't been anywhere near the experimental lab all day.

"Um...Thete?" Drax muttered out of the corner of his mouth.

"Yeah, Drax?"

"For future reference, I think it's probably best if you don't use the timey-wimey detector anywhere near chickens, OK?"

"Yeah, thanks," Theta said dryly, rolling his eyes. "I'll make a note of that."

* * *

"Right," the Doctor said in a determinedly cheerful voice as he surveyed his two unlikely companions, both so incongruously dressed, one as a Roman centurion, the other as a seventeenth century Hussar officer. As far as assistants went, it could be worse, he supposed, even though he couldn't help feeling he was in the middle of a fancy dress party. Considering the desperate situation they were currently in, beggars couldn't be choosers - he would take all the help he could get. "So...looks like we're a team now. Teams are cool. I haven't had a team in ages. 'The Doctor's Team', I love it! We can be the D-Team!" He ostentatiously straightened his bow tie and gave them a theatrical wink, before adding in a very bad American accent, "I just love it when a plan comes together." Both Hart and Rory stared back at him blankly. The Doctor sighed in exasperation. "Hannibal from the A-Team? No? Blimey, why doesn't anyone ever get my jokes? Oh, never mind. Just out of interest, how _did _you two manage to calibrate the wrist-strap controls to the locks of the Pandorica?"

Rory pulled out the sonic screwdriver. "You gave me this."

"No, I didn't." Reaching into his own pocket, the Doctor produced an identical screwdriver and waved it at him as proof that it had never left his possession.

"Yes, you did," Rory insisted patiently. "Look at it."

Cautiously, the Doctor took a step closer, raising his screwdriver to touch the one in Rory's hand. A small bang made Rory jump and a shower of sparks skittered down on to the floor of the cavern.

"Temporal energy. Same screwdriver, at different points in its own time stream," the Doctor said, taking an involuntary step backwards and almost colliding with Hart.

As he did so, there was a similar bang as the Doctor's jacket brushed against the vortex manipulator on the ex-Time Agent's wrist. Unexpectedly, another fountain of sparks fizzed from the Doctor's pocket, accompanied by the acrid smell of burning tweed.

The Doctor gave a yelp of dismay, dancing up and down and slapping wildly at the smouldering material, trying to put the sparks out, while Hart swore graphically and pulled his wrist away.

Finally satisfied that his jacket wasn't on fire, the Doctor fished gingerly inside his smoking pocket and produced another vortex manipulator, identical to the first. "Looks like the screwdriver isn't the only thing crossing it's own time-stream today," he said wryly. "I have no idea how that got into my pocket."

"It's mine. I lent it to the Princess," Hart spoke up, his voice curiously flat. "I guess that proves she was definitely here. And that something bad happened to her. She'd never allow it off her wrist unless she had no choice."

The Doctor blinked in puzzlement. "The Princess?"

"It's what I call your daughter," Hart replied. His face was as hard and as impassive as ever, but there was something tense about his eyes that made the Doctor suspect that he wasn't quite as indifferent to Tejana's fate as he seemed. "Because that's how she acts - haughty and proud and absolutely arrogant, just like a little princess."

"So, in other words, she's a Time Lord," the Doctor shrugged, unperturbed by this description of his daughter. "Hopefully, if she's with the real Master, she's safe enough for now. And, believe me, that's another thing I never thought I'd say. If this wrist-strap belongs to your current time-line, where did the one you're wearing come from?"

Hart gestured over his shoulder to the now-empty satchel lying abandoned on the ground. "From that bag over there."

The Doctor held out his hand. "Then it belongs to a friend of mine. I'll take it for now, if you don't mind. You can have this one back, since it belongs to you."

To his surprise, Hart didn't argue, but swapped the two devices over without protest, carefully ensuring that they didn't touch in the process. "So, what's your _friend_ doing with my wrist-strap in the future?" he asked.

"I don't know," the Doctor replied. "If we find her, you can ask her."

"Oh, don't worry – I will."

A sly, knowing grin played around the corners of the ex-Time Agent's mouth – a grin that annoyed the Doctor far too much, although he couldn't have said exactly why. Something about the idea of this man even talking to River just irritated him beyond bearing. He turned back to Rory. "The fact that you have my screwdriver means it _was_ me who gave it to you. The me from the future. Which means I've got a future. That's nice." Then, behind Rory, he suddenly noticed the grey, statue-like figures dotted around the cavern and both his hearts sank. "That's not."

Rory's gaze followed his and he gave a grimace, particularly when his eyes fell on the tortured, ossified shapes of the other Roman soldiers. "Yeah. What are they?"

"History has collapsed." The Doctor walked morosely over to one of the petrified Nestene duplicates and examined it up close, just as Hart had done before him. "Whole races have been deleted from existence. These are like after-images. Echoes, fossils in time, if you like."

"Er...what does that mean?"

"Total event collapse. The Universe literally never happened."

Hart gave an exaggerated sneer, one eyebrow raised sceptically. "You're kidding, right?" But then, one look at the Doctor's grim and unrelenting expression appeared to convince him otherwise. "Holy shit, you're not, are you? So, why are we still here? What's keeping us safe?"

The Doctor shrugged. "Nothing. We're at the eye of the storm, that's all. We're just the last light to go out."

"I had to ask, didn't I?" Hart groaned. "What is it with you Time Lords? Don't you ever have an ordinary day – you know, the kind that doesn't involve sinister spaceships, or evil duplicates, or the end of life as we know it, or the total collapse of the Universe?"

"Not often, no," the Doctor replied seriously. He could remember having a similar conversation with Nasreen Chaudhry just after the Silurians had dragged Amy down under the Earth. _You act as if this is just every day to you... Not every day, more like every second day..._ "Ordinary days are just so...well, _ordinary_, really."

_Amy_. Turning in a circle, he looked all around the cavern, but she wasn't anywhere there. Suddenly, he realised he hadn't seen her since he climbed out of the Pandorica. A cold feeling of anxiety rose in his chest.

"Rory, where's Amy?"

The look of sheer desolation on the young centurion's face more than confirmed his fears.

"She's up on the surface," Rory replied bleakly. "I killed her, Doctor."

* * *

Without waiting for permission or encouragement, the Master drew Tejana deeper into his kiss, deeper into the pleasure of his mouth. Despite the overwhelming shock of his revelations, she didn't pull away, unable to deny herself the comfort of his embrace, her hearts still screaming in pain that she had let the Chaos-Master use her as he had. For the first time since arriving on Gallifrey, she felt warm and secure and protected, as if nothing could possibly harm her. Opening her mouth to his, she returned his kiss with equal fervour, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck.

"I've missed this," he growled, nuzzling at her soft throat. "It's been hell watching you, remembering just how damn good you feel, but not being able to touch you..."

One hand was firm at her back, holding her hard against him, while the other slid inside the open fastenings of her dress and cupped her breast, in exactly the same way his younger self had caressed her earlier. But the Master's touch was not gentle and exploratory as young Koschei's had been. It was possessive, sure in its ownership, confident in the ability to arouse her. With her eyes closed, Tejana could almost forget that the body pressed so closely against hers belonged to a time long before she was even born, could almost make believe they were back in their bedroom on board their TARDIS, with everything the way it should be. Almost, but not quite.

"This isn't right," she tried to say, stabs of pleasure shooting through her as his fingers tightened on her, heat pooling deep in her belly. "Young Koschei..."

"Wants you just as much as I do," the Master finished, his thumb circling her ruched nipple until she cried out at the erotic sensation. "You belong to me, Ana, every part of you. Your body? Mine. Your mind? Mine. Your thoughts and feelings and emotions, your pleasure and your pain...all mine, to do with as I wish. It doesn't matter what incarnation I'm in, that will always be true now, even this far back in time. And you want this body, I can feel it. I can feel the desire rising inside you like a flood. You want me inside you."

She couldn't argue with that. She did want him – not just because of the fierce attraction she felt towards young Koschei, not just because she had missed the Master's touch, but also because she needed to somehow cancel out the filth of what the Chaos-Master had done to her. She wouldn't have been able to explain it if someone had asked her, but just being in the real Master's arms was making her feel clean and whole again, instead of dirty and degraded.

"Yes!" she said fiercely. "I want you! Now!"

In one smooth movement, he swept her feet out from under her and lowered her to the ground. She could feel the hard marble beneath her, the cold of the stone seeping through the back of her dress to chill her skin. Then all she felt was searing heat as his body covered hers, his mouth hungrily seeking her lips all over again. The room seemed to spin around her, and she could almost hear the Otherstide music playing once more, as a vision burned across her brain of the two of them making love in the middle of the huge, shadowy ballroom, where so many of their people had danced the ancient story of the yin and the yang of the Universe. She could see her slender body, writhing under his hands; she could see the darkness of his hair against her pale skin, moving and shifting as he pleasured her. The psychic link between them seemed to pulse with anticipation, and she wasn't sure whether the haunting image came from his head or hers. She could feel his hungry arousal as well as her own, hot and almost painful in its intensity, taking her to new heights as he lifted her skirts and his hands and mouth ruthlessly explored her body, his tongue lapping, sucking, probing...

"Now," she urged, teetering on the edge of the void, unable to wait any longer as the storm of sensation raged through her. "_Now!_"

He heard her, the sexual tension coiling madly between them, sharp and bright with need as he rose above her.

"_This_ is where you belong, Ana," he snarled, his eyes dark with intent, ringed with burning brown. "This is where you'll _always_ belong. Here, beneath me, waiting for me to fill you. And _this_ is where I belong..." With that, he flexed his spine and drove inside her, making her arch her back with a shattered moan of pleasure. "Inside you, in the place that was made for me. _Amin tel'Seldarine...amin b'ara._"

_Yes, _she cried out to him silently, feeling that instant of perfect unity as their minds merged as completely as their bodies. _I will always be your haven...always be your home!_

He tightened his hold on her, withdrew and thrust again. And again. Over and over, until she was beyond any kind of rational thought, beyond doing anything except allowing her body to receive him. Deeper and deeper he drove into her, his breathing harsh and fractured, desire etched into his face - the desire to take her, the desire to conquer, the desire to own. He wanted, demanded and took; and in response, she gave everything she had, the heated friction mounting, layer after layer, until the exquisite tension finally snapped and the tide of passion rushed through her, sweeping her up and swirling her away. And in that same moment, she felt the white-hot explosion of his release, searing simultaneously through her mind and her body, until there was nothing left in her consciousness except for him and the pleasure he felt in her.

Then everything changed. Before she could even regain her sense of self, it was as though a door had slammed shut between them, brutally separating their minds, even though their bodies were still intimately entwined.

The Master was gone.

Disoriented with shock, Tejana forced her eyes open and looked up into the face of the man who held her. To her horror, a pair of dazed navy blue eyes stared down at her in blank confusion.

"Kat? What the hell just happened?"


	17. Chapter 17

_**Author's Note:**_

_**Hello all! Sorry for the slight delay in posting this, but I've been busy finishing off my Doctor Who/Life on Mars crossover story, "Visiting Mars", which I've been writing for ever and is now finally complete. Thanks to everyone who took the time to R & R that one, by the way, it really meant a lot.  
**_

_**And, of course, thanks to everyone who reviewed on this one since I last posted: MayFairy, Vincenth, Ahsilaa, MountainLord-92, gallifrey calls now, TheWickedHeart, sailormajinmoon, EmmaMarie, Imorgen, Beautifulspace (x 7), Celestial Valkyrie, SawManiac211, silentnight, Geraldine, JessieDear13 (x 2), Aietradaea (x 2), Lost Moon, Theta'sWorstNightmare, Neopolitan Dreamss (x 2), Rosalina and EDZEL2 (x 2).  
**_

_**(PS: I just want to state, for the record, that no live chickens were harmed in any way during the writing of Chapter Sixteen).**_

_**To sailormajinmoon: Yup, when it happens, the conversation between Kat and Koschei will definitely be a doozie. And Theta is certainly starting to put it all together, not long now until it all comes to a head! Thanks very much for the review :)  
**_

_**To Beautifulspace: Thank you very much for all your enthusiastic reviews. Sorry I couldn't update as quickly as you wanted, but I got a bee in my bonnet about finishing my other story, as well as real life being extremely busy at this time of year. Besides, I wanted to give some of the other readers a chance to catch up a bit. I hope your sister had a lovely birthday and I'm very glad she liked your present :)  
**_

_**To silentnight: Oh yeah, that Hart/River conversation is going to be a fun one to write, I'm really looking forward to it, heh heh! Plenty of Pandorica stuff in this chapter, so at least you won't have to wait any longer for that bit. Thanks very much for the review!**_

_**To Geraldine: Thank you! Very glad you liked it!  
**_

_**To Lost Moon: Oooh, good luck in your exams. Thanks so much for taking the time to review! XXX  
**_

_**To Rosalina: Great to hear from you. I hope you will continue reading :) Have a nice holiday in France, that sounds terrific!  
**_

_**All righty, if anyone's still reading after all those thank-yous, here's the chapter. (No warnings today!)  
**_

* * *

_**- CHAPTER SEVENTEEN -  
**_

**_"According to legend, wherever the Pandorica was taken, throughout its long history,_**

**_the Centurion would be there, guarding it."_**

**_- Doctor Who, The Big Bang  
_**

* * *

Cautiously, Hart followed the Doctor and Rory out into the corridor, heading for the stone stairs leading up to the surface, making sure he surreptitiously retrieved the blaster pistol from the floor near the door as they went. It was slightly blackened and warped from being struck by Rory's laser, but it appeared to still be in working condition. That was the thing about Villengard sonic blasters, he thought in satisfaction, as he slotted the weapon back into his holster. They were built to last. Unlike Villengard itself, which had been destroyed when the nuclear reactor that had powered the factory had mysteriously gone critical. From what he had heard, there was a banana plantation there now, of all things. A tragic loss to the Universe, in his opinion.

The Doctor and Rory were a little way ahead by now, tramping hurriedly up the stairs. They were both so anxious about the woman the young centurion said he'd killed, that they had apparently forgotten all about him. He hung back a little bit, quickly going over his options in his mind, trying to figure out which course of action would benefit him the most. He had no loyalty to the Doctor or Rory. Whatever waited up on the surface was their problem, not his, so he had no compunction in allowing them to face it on their own, if that was what suited him best. He had his vortex manipulator back. In theory, he could go anywhere in the Universe he wanted, in any timeline he chose. But, according to the Doctor, the rest of the Universe had now never existed. If that was true – and he had a horrible feeling it was - there was nowhere else for him to go. The vortex manipulator would simply refuse to acknowledge any co-ordinates he put in. Either that, or he would end up teleporting into a void, which was a far from pleasant thought.

Of course, he could always retreat to the sanctuary of the Master's TARDIS. In the midst of all the temporal upheaval, the stable interior of the time machine was probably the only really safe place remaining. However, it wasn't going anywhere until Blondie or the Princess came back to pilot it. And right now, with both of them on the missing list, it didn't seem as if that was going to happen any time soon - assuming either of them were even still alive. To be honest, the idea of staying indefinitely alone inside the huge, echoing ship gave him the absolute willies.

No, the most advantageous place for him at the moment was at the Doctor's side. He didn't know the man from a bar of soap, and what he did know, he didn't particularly like. After all, it was the Doctor's fault that Jack had changed the way he had. Hart could quite cheerfully have killed him just for that. However, he was Tejana's father, and he was a Time Lord, the only one currently available, so it made sense to assume that he was the best chance – perhaps the _only _chance – for Hart to get out of this mess alive.

Content that he had made the only decision possible under the circumstances, he began to edge warily up the stairs, following the other two out into the open. It was night outside and the air was bitingly cold, hitting him like a slap across the face as he emerged from the underground tunnel. Ghost-like drifts of mist swirled and coiled eerily around his ankles. The only sound in the stillness was the crackling of several small camp-fires dotted about. Except for the Doctor and Rory, no-one else was in sight. The two of them were not far away, crouching beside a blanket-wrapped form stretched out on the ground.

"I killed her!" Rory said again, his words travelling clearly through the frosty air, choked in agonising pain.

The Doctor pulled back the blanket, revealing the figure of a woman. She was motionless, her eyes closed, evidently dead. The Time Lord's youthful face twisted in compassion. "Oh, Rory!"

For a brief instant, Hart's breathing hitched in alarm as he saw the woman's long, red hair spilling across the ground. But then he relaxed, realising that it was much more auburn in colour than Tejana's dark copper locks. Besides, they'd said this girl's name was Amy, hadn't they? Whoever she was, he knew he had never seen her before in his life.

Quickly losing interest in the dead woman, he looked around, automatically assessing his surroundings for threat. He had never been to Stonehenge before, but he had heard enough about it to instantly recognise where they were. The tall standing stones were bathed in gleaming white moonlight, casting enormous, thin shadows across the mystical circle. Almost involuntarily, his gaze was drawn upwards, and his guts twisted in shock. Despite the Doctor's warning, he was totally unprepared for what he saw. The sky was beautifully clear, the sort of night when every star in the heavens should be achingly visible, shining in all their celestial glory. But apart from the round, smiling face of the moon, there wasn't a thing to be seen. The sky was sheer, unbroken black, like a blank canvas waiting to be written on. Every single star had disappeared, as if they had never been. A shudder wracked Hart and he swore uncontrollably. His life had always been out there among those stars. To have them so suddenly erased was to feel the very foundations of his existence ripped out from beneath him.

"What am I, Doctor?" he heard Rory ask in a trembling voice.

With some difficulty, Hart dragged his eyes back down to stare at the young centurion. From what he'd seen so far, it was obvious that Rory had to be some kind of android. However, the expression on the boy's face was as desolate as the empty night sky, his grief at the loss of the woman almost tangible. If Hart hadn't seen the weaponry concealed inside his body, he would definitely have believed him to be one hundred percent human. In all his travels, he had never before encountered an android with such an extraordinary emotional range. Despite the disorienting shock of the missing stars, he found he was curious to hear what the Doctor had to say.

"You're a Nestene duplicate," the Doctor said, intent on running his sonic screwdriver over Amy's prone body. "A lump of plastic with delusions of humanity."

"But I'm Rory now! Whatever was happening, it's _stopped_ now. _I'm Rory!_"

The Doctor held the screwdriver up in front of his eyes, examining the results of his scan. "That's just software talking."

The Time Lord's voice was suddenly as cold as an icicle and twice as uncaring. Rory looked absolutely devastated, as if his friend had just stabbed him through the heart. Even Hart, who wasn't in the business of feeling sorry for people, couldn't help feeling a twinge of sympathy for the boy.

"Can you help her?" Rory pleaded. "Is there anything you can do?"

The Doctor stood up and gave a casual, indifferent shrug and wandered off a few paces, his eyes fixed on the deserted heavens, his back to Rory and Hart. "Yeah, probably...if I had the time."

"The_ time_!" Rory's voice vibrated with astonished fury.

"All of creation has just been wiped from the sky. Do you know how many lives now never happened? All the people who never lived? Your _girlfriend_ isn't more important than the whole universe."

_Whoa, _Hart thought in amused fascination. The abrupt change in the Doctor's personality was almost schizophrenic, from compassionate and caring to callous and uninterested, all in the blink of an eye. _And I thought Blondie was cold!_

In an explosion of rage, Rory grabbed the Time Lord by the shoulder and spun him violently around to face him, before smashing him across the jaw with a powerful right hook. "She is to ME!" he roared.

The Doctor crashed in a crumpled heap to the ground.

A delighted grin spread across Hart's face. As he had noted before, at least hanging out with Time Lords was never boring. "Way to go, Julius Caesar!" he chortled, flexing his arms above his head, like an obsessed fan at a prize-fight. "Woo! Plastic fists of_ thunder_!"

The young centurion whirled on him, his eyes blazing with uncontrollable fury. "RORY!" he yelled passionately. "My name is RORY WILLIAMS!"

And with that, his fist lashed out again, taking Hart by surprise with the sheer speed and strength of the punch. Before the ex-Time Agent knew what was happening, he had landed beside the Doctor on his backside, his jaw throbbing like an absolute bitch.

"You know, unlike you, I'm not sure I deserved that," he muttered to the Time Lord in a wry voice, rubbing gingerly at the swelling contusion.

To his surprise, the Doctor just laughed and jumped to his feet, carefully wiggling his own jaw back into alignment. "Welcome _back_, Rory Williams!" he exclaimed. "Sorry, I had to be sure. Hell of a gun arm you're packing there!" He hurried past the bewildered centurion, back over to the prostrate figure of the woman. "Right, we need to get her downstairs! And get that look off your plastic face, you're getting married in the morning."

Still a bit unsure, Rory followed him. "So you've got a plan then?" he queried, supporting the woman's head while the Doctor lifted her feet. Together, they carried her towards the tunnel entrance and back down the stairs. Using his good arm, Hart levered himself up off the ground and trailed along behind them, curious to see what the Doctor was intending to do. He knew from his own experience that the Time Lords were able to do any number of amazing things, but surely raising the dead was a task beyond even their abilities.

"Bit of a plan, yeah," the Doctor confirmed, as the small convoy re-entered the room containing the Pandorica. "Memories are more powerful than you think. And Amy Pond is not an ordinary girl. She grew up with a time crack in her wall, the entire Universe pouring through her dreams every night. The Nestenes took a memory print of her and got more than they bargained for. Like you. Not just your face, but your heart and your soul."

He turned to Hart and gestured towards the Pandorica. "If you wouldn't mind doing the honours again, Captain Hart?"

Hart stared at him incredulously, wondering yet again if he had lost his mind. "You want me to _open_ it? Not a chance in hell! Evil-Twin-Of-Blondie is still in there!"

"Yes, well, funnily enough, I hadn't forgotten that," the Doctor retorted. "But I need to put Amy in there too."

"You need to _what_?" Rory demanded, his arms tightening protectively around the red-headed girl, the disbelief in his tone mirroring Hart's. "What_ for_?"

"To save her. This box is the ultimate prison. You can't even escape by dying. It forces you to stay alive."

"But she's already dead!" Hart pointed out, reasonably enough, in his opinion.

"She's mostly dead. The Pandorica can stasis-lock her that way. All it needs is a scan of her living DNA and it will restore her."

"And where's it going to get that?" Rory asked.

The Doctor looked at his watch. "In about two thousand years." Then, seeing the unconvinced, obstinate expressions on the faces of his companions, he added, "Trust me, I've got a plan. And the first rule of the D-Team is: 'Don't argue with the Doctor when he has a plan'."

"I thought you said the first rule was that the Doctor lies," Rory responded bluntly.

"Yeah, well," the Doctor grinned. "I lied about that!"

* * *

The Chaos-Master was good at waiting. The _Cruciform_ had waited for centuries for the real Master to arrive on Mnemosyne, to reawaken it from its long inertia. But in the end, he had come, and the Chaos-Master had been born. Now it was just a matter of waiting again. As frustrating as its imprisonment was, it would not last for ever. One day, some fool who wasn't aware of the legend would find a way to open the Pandorica. And then the Chaos-Master would be free to obtain his revenge, on the Doctor and on Hart, if either of them were still alive, and after that, on the rest of the Universe. _A goblin, a trickster or a warrior...a nameless thing, soaked in the blood of a billion galaxies... _A faint smile tugged at the corner of the thing's mouth. Oh yes, after all the death and destruction caused by the _Cruciform_ in the Time War, the description was more than apt. And it wasn't over, not even close. It had merely been delayed.

In the meantime, the creature sank deep within itself, like a bear going into hibernation, closing down nearly every physical function, relying on the Pandorica to keep its body alive. Only a residual awareness remained, just enough to know when the doors of the prison unexpectedly opened again, less than an hour later. Hostile eyes moved over it; even through the isolating walls of the trance, it could feel them, crawling like insects across its skin.

As if from a great distance, it heard Hart's harsh voice ask, "What's the matter with it? It's not breathing. Is it dead?"

He sounded almost disappointed, as if he had been hoping for some sort of excuse to kill the Chaos-Master himself.

"Not dead," the Doctor replied. "In some sort of suspension trance, I would think. It's an old Time Lord trick."

"You can't seriously be thinking of putting Amy in here with this evil..._thing_," the one called Rory spoke up. "No way, Doctor! I'm not letting you do it!"

"We don't have a choice, Rory," the Doctor replied. "The Pandorica is the only thing that will restore her to life. And it's also the only thing capable of restraining the Chaos-Master. So, just for now, they're going to have to be room-mates. It's perfectly safe. Even if he emerges from his trance, the Pandorica won't allow any form of attack inside its perimeters, either physical or mental. And Amy won't wake until it receives a scan of her living DNA in two thousand years time, so she won't even be aware of him."

Despite his obvious reluctance, Rory must have ultimately conceded the point, since there were some muffled noises and a slender figure was gently lowered into the other chair, opposite the Chaos-Master. Somewhere in the back of the creature's mind, hiding like a spider under a rock, it sensed the Doctor stroking the girl's hair back from her face, before placing his hands on either side of her head and closing his eyes. "I'm just leaving her a message for when she wakes up, letting her know what's happening."

Shortly thereafter, the other Time Lord backed out of the Pandorica and the doors slid closed again. Outside, the circular locks whirled and spun, sealing the box once more.

Inside, bathed in the thin, blueish light, the Chaos-Master's brown eyes suddenly flicked open, sharp and alert, focusing on the prison's new inmate. A sly, cruel smile crossed its face.

"Hello, Miss Pond," it whispered malevolently.

* * *

Outside, Rory watched as the doors of the Pandorica slid together, hiding Amy from view, locking her away from him. His mouth was unaccountably dry with anxiety. The Doctor seemed very confident that everything was going to be all right, but something about the Chaos-Master disturbed him right down to the core of his being.

"So she's going to be stuck in that box...with him...for two thousand years?" he asked.

"Yeah, but the three of us will be taking a short cut, thanks to Captain Hart's vortex manipulator," the Doctor said, tapping the device on his wrist. "Rubbish way to time travel, but the Universe is tiny now. We'll be fine."

"Oi!" Hart protested, bristling with evident annoyance. "Bloody arrogant Time Lords! What's wrong with travelling by vortex manipulator?"

"Unfortunately, we don't have a few days to spare, otherwise I'd be delighted to answer your question," the Doctor replied loftily.

Rory frowned, ignoring their childish bickering. "So, hang on, the future's still there, then? Our world?"

"A version of it, yes," the Doctor nodded. "Not quite the one you know. The Earth alone in the sky. Let's go and have a look." He held out his arm to Hart, showing him the read-out on the screen of the vortex manipulator. "Here. Input these co-ordinates. Unless, of course, you'd rather stay here."

"Hardly," the Captain grunted, keying identical data into his wrist-strap.

"Rory, you put your hand here," the Doctor instructed. Then, as Rory hesitated, he added, "Don't worry, should be safe."

But Rory turned away, running his hand down the outside of the Pandorica. "That's not what I'm worried about."

"She'll be fine. Nothing can get into this box."

Rory flicked an accusing glance at Hart, standing nearby with his arms folded. "He did."

"Well, there's only one of him and he'll be with us," the Doctor said firmly. "I'll be keeping an eye on him every second."

"And it's not just external threats. That creature inside there with her..."

"Won't be able to harm her, I promise."

Rory's back straightened, his posture suddenly stiff and military. "No. This box needs a guard. I killed the last one."

The Doctor walked away, throwing his hands in the air. "No! Rory, no! Don't even think about it!"

"I can't leave her alone with him."

"She won't _feel _it!" Exasperation rang in every nuance of the Doctor's tone, but there was something else there too, some sort of grudging respect, an admiration for the unswerving devotion Rory gave to Amy, no matter what happened. And perhaps...just perhaps...there was a touch of jealousy there too, from the man who had always had to concentrate on the bigger picture, the fate of planets, galaxies, even the entire Universe; who had never, in all his long life, been able to put the fate of a single individual before everything else, no matter how dear to him that individual was.

"You bet she won't!" the young centurion insisted stubbornly. He'd meant what he said, in that emotional moment back up on the surface. To him, Amy would always be more important than the whole Universe.

"Two thousand years, Rory!" the Doctor reminded him. "You won't even sleep! You'll be conscious every second. It'll drive you..._mad_!"

"_Will_ she be safer if I stay? Look me in the eye and tell me she wouldn't be safer!"

The Doctor gave a heavy sigh. "Rory..."

"_Answer me_!" Rory's voice was like cold steel, unrelenting in its demand.

"Yes," the Doctor admitted, unable to lie. "Obviously."

Rory nodded solemnly. There it was...the unalloyed, unvarnished truth. For him, the choice was black and white, there was no acceptable alternative.

"Then how could I leave her?"

The Doctor made a long, drawn out noise of sheer frustration. "Why do you have to be so..._human_?"

"Because right now, I'm not," Rory replied bleakly, turning his back on his friend and taking up a defensive position in front of the Pandorica.

The Doctor glanced helplessly at Hart, who merely shrugged, making it clear that the disagreement was none of his concern.

"Fine. You've obviously made up your mind! But at least listen to this, because it's the last bit of advice you'll get in a very long time. You're living plastic, but not immortal. I have no idea how long you'll last. And you're not indestructible. Stay away from heat and radio signals when they come along."

Rory put on his centurion's helmet and buckled the strap firmly under his chin. The Doctor nodded at Hart. "Come on then, Captain. Let's go." In perfect synchronisation, they both pressed a series of buttons on their vortex manipulators and began to fade together, their outlines glittering angelically in the gloom.

"See ya round, Rory Williams," Hart said with a mocking salute, using Rory's real name for the first time since they had met. "Have fun."

"Remember, you can't heal or repair yourself," the Doctor continued to lecture, his voice growing fainter and fainter. "Any damage is permanent. So, for God's sake, no matter how bored you get, stay out of..."

Before he could finish the sentence, both he and Hart vanished into the Time Vortex, leaving Rory standing alone in front of the Pandorica. Resolutely, trying not to think of the implications of what he had done, the young centurion drew his sword and settled in for a very, very long and lonely wait.

* * *

Tejana had never run away from anything in her life. Ever since the Doctor had left her behind on Gallifrey as a child, she had refused to take the coward's way out. No matter what was thrown at her, she had always gritted her teeth stubbornly and faced it head on. But this time, staring up into Koschei's dazed navy-blue eyes, she didn't hesitate. With a sharp, eel-like wriggle, she managed to take him sufficiently by surprise to enable her to slither out from under him on the smooth, polished marble floor. Then, leaping to her feet like a startled gazelle, she sprinted across the ballroom as fast as she could, racing for the door.

"Kat!" Koschei yelled. "_Kat!_ What the hell...? Get back here! I'm _ordering_ you!"

But she didn't stop; couldn't stop, even if she had wanted to. Instead, she ran faster, putting every last bit of strength she had left into her wild, headlong flight. She could still feel the possessive imprint of his lips on hers, the sublime heat of his body on her skin. But he had known nothing of any of it. And in the moment of their joining, it hadn't been him that her soul had reached for, but his older self; not the boy, but the man. There was nothing she could possibly say to him, no way she could ever explain what had happened. Her stomach tied itself in knots at the very thought.

And so she ran. She knew it was only a temporary reprieve. No matter where she went on Gallifrey now, he would find her. He had that much at least in common with his future self. But in that one, single, anguished moment, that didn't matter. All that mattered was to escape, to get away, to keep on running until there was nowhere left to run to.

The corridors of the Academy were deserted. Everyone else had gone down to dinner. No-one was left to notice a dishevelled servant girl running as if all the devils of hell were pursuing her. She could hear her own tortured breathing rasping in her ears; feel the pounding of her double heartbeat drumming in her chest; suffering the sharp, stabbing stitch in her side, as she pushed herself harder and harder, faster and faster. She knew it wasn't Koschei she was trying to out-run. As far as she could tell, he hadn't even followed her out into the maze of passageways. Instead, she was trying to run away from herself. The stone walls of Gallifrey seemed to press in upon her, just as they had when she was a child, trapping her, suffocating her, as inescapable as a spider's web, always drawing her back in. To her horror, she realised she was crying; huge, gasping, painful sobs that shuddered through her body. And with every sob, she pushed herself even harder, relishing the burning sensation in her lungs, wanting nothing more than to leave everything that had happened since Mnemosyne far behind her, trying with everything she had just to forget. She had no idea where she was, no idea where she'd been. All her surroundings flashed past, blurring into one, long, silent scream, echoing inside her, releasing her pain into the night.

And then, somehow, without even realising quite how she got there, she was out in the Academy gardens, running in the purple moonlight, glittering between the silver trees.

_Tell me, Ana...have you ever danced with the Devil in the pale moonlight?_

"NO!" she shrieked, running even faster, not sure if her lips made the noise or only her aching hearts. "NO, NO, NO!"

In front of her, she saw the gate leading into the small contemplative garden she had visited the previous day. Exhausted now, her breathing coming out in great, tormented gulps, she staggered through the opening and flung herself down on to the raked sand, burying her face in the soft grains, careless of the beautiful patterns painstakingly etched there, and gave herself up to the terrible storm of weeping.

"Kat?" a familiar voice said nearby. "Kat, are you all right? What on Gallifrey's the matter with you?"

She couldn't respond, had nothing to say, no strength left to give. But then a pair of strong arms closed around her, and she was tucked comfortingly beneath someone's chin, a gentle hand stroking soothingly through her hair.

"Sssshhhhh..." the voice said. "Hush now, I've got you. Whatever it is, we'll sort it out. It's all going to be all right now, I promise."

And turning her face into Theta's chest, Tejana cried in her young father's arms until she could cry no more.


	18. Chapter 18

_**Author's Note:**_

_**Hi all! So here's a quicker update than usual. Hopefully people will like it :)  
**_

_**Thanks to the following people for their lovely reviews: sailormajinmoon, MountainLord-92, Theta'sWorstNightmare, Imorgen, KlinicallyInsaneKoschei, gallifrey calls now, EmmaMarie, silentnight, MayFairy, SawManiac211, Lost Moon, TheWickedHeart, Beautifulspace (x 2), Geraldine and EDZEL2.  
**_

_**To silentnight: Thanks for the review - yes, the Doctor may have made the mistake of underestimating the Chaos-Master just a bit...  
**_

_**To Lost Moon: Very glad you think the Pandorica stuff is working out OK. Thanks so much for the feedback!  
**_

_**To Geraldine: Yeah, Tejana doesn't know which way to turn at the moment. very glad you are enjoying it ;)  
**_

_**To Beautifulspace: Thanks so much for both your reviews. Bit of a longer chapter this time, so hopefully you will like. In answer to your question, my favourite Doctor is (and always will be) Ten, closely followed by Five.  
**_

_**Gorgeous summer weather starting to happen here, so if my updating slows down, you will all know why :P  
**_

_**Here it is...  
**_

* * *

**- CHAPTER EIGHTEEN -**

"_**There are no safe choices. Only other choices."**_

_**- Libba Bray, A Great And Terrible Beauty**_

* * *

Theta Sigma hadn't bothered to go down to dinner. After seeing the chicken blown to pieces, he had lost his appetite. He knew it was only a chicken, but still, he felt very guilty over what had happened to the poor thing, even if it hadn't been exactly his fault.

Besides, it had seemed like a good idea to stay out of sight for a while, at least until Gomer discovered what had happened to his experiment and the inevitable hullabaloo erupted. It would be useless trying to explain that it was an accident, so there was no point making the effort. With their track record for practical jokes, no-one would ever believe them. And neither Theta nor Drax could afford any more black marks against their names at the moment. They had both already been in far too many scrapes recently. Not to mention the fact that Theta didn't want anyone looking too closely at the device they had been building – it would lead to far too many questions he didn't want to answer.

So they had furtively gone their separate ways, each intent on laying low until the hue and cry died down. Drax had headed for the comfort of the Deca common room, while Theta had wandered out into the Academy grounds, hoping to find some solitude and some time to think in the small contemplative garden.

The night was as calm and still as always, the air balmy and heavy with the combined scent of various aromatic blossoms. Sitting cross-legged on the big, flat rock at the centre of the patterned sand, he pulled the timey-wimey detector out of his pocket and examined it by the purple moonlight. In the end, Drax had been only too happy to hand it over, no doubt relieved to be rid of any incriminating evidence. Theta's fingers hovered over the dial, uncertain whether he should turn it on or not. But then, telling himself that there were unlikely to be any chickens anywhere around here, he took a deep breath and activated the device. He was immediately rewarded with another faint ding.

Studying the read-out, a thrill that was half excitement and half dread ran along his spine. There was no doubt about it. Somewhere nearby, there was a slow but steady build-up of rhondium particles. Another crack was coming, a big one. And this time, with a bit of work using the timey-wimey detector, he would be able to pinpoint exactly where it was going to happen.

He knew he should probably go to Lord Borusa with what he had discovered, but the honest truth was that he didn't want to. His curiosity was much too strongly aroused. Once the older Time Lords found out about the cracks, they would take over the investigation and Theta would be shut out in the cold, sent back to the classroom like a child. The Time Lords were extremely adept at covering things up. If he handed over the information now, it would disappear into a metaphorical black hole and he would never find out what it had all been about. No, he reflected, it would be better for everyone if he saw this new crack for himself. _Then_ he could decide whether it was worth bothering Borusa.

Before he could dwell any further on the problem, he heard the sound of small running feet coming closer and closer along the path on the other side of the garden wall. To his surprise, he saw Kat burst wildly through the gate and throw herself face down on to the ornamental raked river of sand. Her glorious mane of copper hair was hanging loose and tangled down her back and her shoulders were shaking with terrible, choking sobs.

Theta hesitated for a few moments, aware he needed to do something, but not exactly sure what. He wasn't accustomed to dealing with crying women. Up until now, it wasn't something he'd been called upon to do very often. There were only two female members of the Deca, neither of whom required any sort of emotional support from him. Rallon always comforted Millennia when she was in tears. And as for Ushas, no-one in their right mind would go anywhere near her when she was upset, not unless they wanted to walk funny for at least a week afterwards.

He cleared his throat. Saying something to her would at least be a start. "Kat? Kat, are you all right? What on Gallifrey's the matter with you?"

She didn't answer. If anything, her sobbing intensified; her small, delicate fingers curling frantically into the sand, as if she was seeking something solid to hang on to. She was so distraught, she didn't even seem to know he was there.

He hopped off his rock and moved closer, kneeling down in the sand beside her, wondering what could possibly have upset her this much. He had only known her for a short time, but she had never struck him as someone who cried easily. She was much too proud and defiant for that. The quality of her tears was almost desperate, as if they were being ripped from somewhere deep inside. Whatever was going on with her, it was much more serious than just a reprimand from a superior staff member or a tiff with one of the other maids. It seemed to him more like the broken reaction of someone who had been teetering on some sort of edge for far too long and had finally snapped under the strain.

The intensity of her grief tore at his hearts. In the end, he stopped trying to over-think it and just reached out to her and gathered her close, as if she was a child.

"Ssssshhhhhh," he soothed, rocking her back and forth in his arms. "Hush now, I've got you. Whatever it is, we'll sort it out. It's going to be all right now."

She didn't pull away. Instead, she curled herself into him, her face buried in his chest, and wept as if both her hearts would break. There was nothing he could do, except to awkwardly stroke her hair and to murmur soft, incoherent words of comfort. The strange thing was, despite feeling a bit useless and out of his depth, he wasn't at all self-conscious about holding her so closely, not the way he would have expected. It felt right, as if it was something he was supposed to be doing, as if she was his responsibility, although he couldn't have said why. It was all another part of Kat's mystery.

After a little while, the wracking sobs slowed and she gradually quietened. For a few, short moments, she remained slumped lifelessly in his arms. Then she took a deep, shuddering breath and he could almost feel her drawing herself in, picking up the pieces and putting them back together, one by one. Sure enough, before long, she disentangled herself from him and sat up, her face intentionally curtained by the fall of her hair, so that he couldn't read her expression.

"I'm sorry, my Lord," she said in a low voice. "I didn't mean to embarrass you. I didn't know you were here."

"I'm not embarrassed," he answered, with perfect truth. "What was that all about? Are you all right?"

She shrugged, her slender body as tense as a wire. Whereas before she had welcomed his comfort, now every part of her closing him out. Even though he couldn't see her face, it was clear she was deeply ashamed of her uncharacteristic vulnerability. "It's nothing. Just...some bad news...from home."

"From Low Town? What sort of bad news?"

Her hand twitched in a dismissive gesture. "I don't want to talk about it."

Theta studied her keenly. For the first time since she had arrived so tumultuously in the garden, he noticed her dishevelled appearance. The top of her dress was gaping nearly wide open. Courteously, he averted his eyes, a faint flush colouring his cheeks.

"Um..." he began. "You might want to...you know...tidy up a bit."

He gestured vaguely towards her chest, while still endeavouring to look anywhere else at the same time. He heard her give a quick, sharp gasp of distress and then she was fumbling with the buttons, snapping them closed. If Anzor hadn't been incapacitated in the Infirmary, Theta would have wondered if he had been up to his old tricks again, especially after his threats the day before.

"Kat, if someone's hurt you..."

"No!" she cut in. "It's nothing like that."

As he looked at her, his gaze was drawn down to her flat belly, a curious intuition stirring inside him, some sort of deep-seated instinct, shivering over his skin. He knew that, in theory, it was none of his business, but somehow he still felt compelled to ask, "This bad news...it's not...I mean, you're not...?" His hand settled meaningfully on his own stomach, making apparent what he was getting at.

Her eyes swung up to meet his, instant understanding in their clear, green depths. "Pregnant? Is that what you're trying to ask me, Lord Theta? Am I _pregnant_?"

"Yeah, that's what I'm asking."

He'd obviously touched a nerve, because she glared at him fiercely, almost as if she hated him, fresh tears shimmering angrily in her eyes. "And what would you say if I was?"

The words were flung at him, like a challenge. Faint alarm bells began going off in the back of his head. Her anger was oddly personal, directed specifically at him, as if he was the last person in the world she wanted to tell - as if he had let her down before and now she expected nothing different from him. It was a peculiar sensation, like being in a play where she knew the ending, but he was missing half the script.

"That would depend," he said carefully, feeling his way into the conversation. "Firstly, I'd want to know if you were happy about it or not."

Her soft lips tightened in what could only be described as contempt. "_Yes_, I'm happy! Happier than I've ever been about anything in my life before. Why should that matter? When has that _ever_ mattered?"

"Of course it matters. It's _all _that matters. And, in that case, it means I would say...congratulations."

She gave a short, sharp laugh, laced with pain. Hearing her crying had been bad enough, but hearing the absolute bitterness contained in that travesty of a laugh was even worse. "_Congratulations_? Well, _thank_ you, Theta Sigma. Such a pity my _father_ can't share your enlightened point-of-view."

"He's not pleased?"

"No, I think we can safely say, he's not pleased."

"And the father of the baby?"

She shook her head. "I don't want to talk about him either."

Her tone was flat and absolutely final. Whoever the father of her baby was - wherever he was - she had no intention of discussing him. Theta thought back to their earlier conversation in the passageway where the crack had been – all the questions she had asked him about fatherhood and children; the peculiar intensity of her eyes, as if she had been hungry to hear his answers. Had this been the reason why? Because she had fallen pregnant against her family's wishes? Because her own father had refused to listen? Looking at her flushed, downcast face, he felt a sudden protective tenderness welling inside him. Gently, he took her hand in his.

"I don't know you do things in Low Town, but here in the Citadel, the Time Lords believe that every baby is a precious gift," he told her. "Don't ever let anyone tell you any different, Kat."

"_Every_ baby?" she demanded passionately, her eyes boring into his. "No matter who the father is? Do _you _truly believe that?"

"Well, I don't exactly know a lot about babies yet, but yeah, I truly believe it."

"Then don't _stop_ believing, Theta," she responded, pulling her hand away. "Please, not ever, no matter old you get, no matter what happens!"

Brushing grains of sand from her skirts, she rose to her feet, her confiding mood suddenly vanishing like mist in the sunlight. Her head was held high, her usual armour of pride once more intact, as impenetrable and resistant as steel. "Thank you once again for your help, my Lord," she said formally, not allowing him an opening for any further questions. "But I have to go now."

With that, she walked back towards the garden gate. Theta watched her go, his brow creased in concentration. She was an anomaly – a puzzle that required solving. As before, nothing in her words or her bearing added up to her alleged position as a Shabogan servant girl. Looking back over this conversation and all the ones they had held previously, he realised that she had never once confirmed that her home was in Low Town. Instead, whenever the subject of her origins was raised, she became evasive or changed the subject.

_Who are you really, Kat? _he wondered curiously, one hundred percent convinced now that she wasn't what she pretended to be. _And where do you come from?_

Just before she vanished out the gate, he called to her, "Kat..."

She turned around and looked at him. "Yes?"

"Do you know what YANA means?"

Her gaze sharpened, an almost hungry expression on her face. "YANA? Why do you ask?"

"Because, just after you were here last time, I saw it written in the sand. As if it was some kind of message. I wondered if it was meant for you."

"No, I've never heard of it," she said, and this time he was certain that she was lying. There was something about her eyes, something about her face...she not only understood the mysterious message, but the mere thought of it had eased her unhappiness somehow. "Goodbye, Lord Theta."

With that, she slipped through the gate and was gone, leaving him kneeling alone in the tumbled sand, his head full of unanswered questions. It wasn't until quite some time later that he realised he had forgotten to tell her about the rhondium sensor and the impending crack.

But, by then, it was too late, because he had already made up his mind what he needed to do.

As he too left the garden, up above in the night sky, high above the Dome, the last few, bright stars winked out into oblivion.

* * *

Exhausted beyond bearing, Tejana made her way back up to the bedroom she shared with Dyoni. The last few days had been some of the most traumatic she had endured since the end of the Time War, and all she wanted to do was to sleep.

Everything around her was just so surreal, and hard to process, like a constant nightmare. Even the strange connection she had with Theta only served to underline how out of place she was here. He was everything she had ever wanted her father to be, everything she had always longed for, all her life. She would never have been able to let the Doctor comfort her like that – her pride simply wouldn't have allowed it. But with Theta it had seemed so right and so natural. And then, for him to guess about her unborn son...the contrast between his reception of the news and that of his older self could not have been greater.

_Every baby is a precious gift...I truly believe it..._

Both her hearts clenched in grief and anger as she remembered his simple, honest words.

_You believed it back then, Doctor...why couldn't you have believed it about your own grandson?_

As for the things the Master had told her back in the ballroom, she couldn't even bear to think about it, couldn't stand the knowledge that the only way they could ever be together now, the only way he could _live_, was for her to willingly betray every single thing she had had been brought up to hold sacred. Could she really stand back and allow her life-mate to possess another body? Possession was one of the most abhorrent offences a psychic being could commit – even if the body in question belonged to the Master's earlier self and therefore was technically already part of him. And if she accepted that, could she then really condone murder - even if the Master's father was a monster and deserved to die? And if she permitted things to progress that far, was she really willing to change the history, not only of Gallifrey, but the entire Universe?

The Master would argue that, as Time Lords, they had that right. But she knew the Doctor would say that no-one did. The Master would argue that the change would improve history. The Doctor would reply that even the Time Lords weren't gods and nobody could be sure what would happen. The Master would tell her that this was the only way their son could live. The Doctor would say that the life of one could never be worth more than the whole, no matter who that one was.

The arguments and counter-arguments spun back and forth inside her tired brain. She knew she couldn't keep running and hiding from the ugly choice. She thought back to her last conversation with John Hart, aboard the Master's TARDIS.

_If the only way to get him back had been to toss me over that cliff inside my jacket, would you really have done it?...Something to think about, isn't it, Princess?_

Back then, she had thought the answer to that question didn't matter, that it was utterly irrelevant and able to be ignored. But she had been wrong about that, just as she had been wrong about so many other things lately. Soon, very soon, she was going to have to decide just how far she was prepared to go to protect her relationship with the Master. Soon she was going to have to choose where her loyalty to him began and ended. No more fuzzy edges, no more evasions, but instead, hard, clear-cut, uncrossable lines.

_Soon_, she thought wearily, _but not right now_. Right now, all she wanted was a few hours of peace and rest, to regain the strength and determination that seemed to have so woefully deserted her.

But she had no sooner entered the bedroom when Dyoni cannoned through the door behind her. "Kat! There you are! I was worried! At first, when you weren't in the ballroom after dinner, I thought you'd gone for a walk to clear your head. But when you didn't come back, and Fionnula was asking where you were..."

Tejana swore silently. With everything that had happened that evening, she hadn't even given a thought to her duties. Once again, she'd forgotten that she was supposed to be a servant – that this time around, she couldn't wander through the Academy as and when she chose.

"I'm so sorry, Dyoni," she said contritely. "You were right. I didn't feel well, so I went out into the garden for a bit. But I'm still feeling a bit sick, so I thought I'd better lie down. I didn't think to ask permission from Fionnula."

"Oh, it's all right," Dyoni replied. "I sorted it out. I told her you were ill and she didn't mind."

The very idea of the Head Housemaid 'not minding' her staff lying down on the job, especially with Otherstide so near, made Tejana raise her eyebrows sceptically.

_In other words, _she thought, _ it's just as I suspected. Fionnula knows exactly what happened with Anzor and, in her own stiff, unbending way, is cutting me a break because of my supposed injuries. _Dyoni had been right, the servants really _did _know at lot more than their Time Lord masters about what went on in the Academy.

"Thank you," she said. "I appreciate it."

"You're welcome. But...she did say you're down on early breakfast duty, so you'd better get some sleep while you can."

Tejana suppressed a small, tired smile at the other maid's rueful tone. That last bit sounded a lot more like the Fionnula she had become accustomed to – obviously the Head Housemaid didn't want anyone thinking she was getting soft.

"Well," Dyoni continued. "I'll leave you to your rest." She moved towards the door and then stopped and looked back, a rosy blush staining her cheeks. "I...um...I'm not sure how late I'll be."

Tejana sat down on the edge of her bed. "Oh?"

"Yes." Dyoni's eyes held a shy, excited glow. "The thing is, Maerl has asked me to take a walk with him."

"Maerl?"

"Yes, he's one of the cooks. He was sitting opposite you at dinner, on your first night here."

Tejana cast her mind back, trying to remember. Vaguely, she recalled the young, nondescript male servant who had managed to bore everyone stupid for the whole meal with his lengthy discourse on insect biology. "You mean the man who was talking about flutterwings?" she queried dubiously, sure she must be mistaken.

"_Yes_, that's him," Dyoni breathed rapturously. "He's so clever. I can't believe he's asked me out – I never thought he would look twice at me!"

Tejana smiled weakly, not really sure what to say. Personally, she would rather put a bullet through her head than spend one more minute in Maerl's tedious company. But she supposed it was always possible that he was just the man for Dyoni. "Oh..well...um...that's really nice, Dyoni. I'm really happy for you."

The other girl gave her a sympathetic look, obviously misinterpreting her hesitance as jealousy. "Don't worry, Kat. I'm sure things will work out with your man too, in time."

And for that one, brief moment, Tejana _was_ jealous of Dyoni. Not over her budding relationship with Maerl, but because for the servant girl, things were so simple and straightforward. Her destiny didn't involve any difficult, heart-rending decisions. She and Maerl would probably see each other for a while, get married and have children. And when they were grown, those children would also serve the Time Lords, and their children after them. In fact, if she ever managed to repair her personal timeline, decades in the future, Dyoni's grand-daughters would probably clear the plates away from in front of a young student named Tejanakaturadilena, an arrogant, haughty Time Lady who would never even notice them or think to ask their names or even to thank them.

Looking at the maid-servant's bright, happy face, Tejana felt nothing but shame. This was the truth she hadn't understood back then – the truth that the Master would probably never understand. The Universe was made up of ordinary, good people just like Dyoni, just living their short lives from day to day, without any thought to temporal theory or knowledge of the casual nexus. And these were the people who would be affected, for better or for worse, if she allowed the Master to tamper with the time-lines. The responsibility...the _risk_...was far too great. How could anyone possibly even _want_ to hold that much power over the lives of billions and billions of people? The Master might think that they didn't matter, but they did...oh, they did!

"Yeah, of course things will work out," she responded dully, wishing with all her hearts it was true. "It'll be just fine." Mustering up a smile, she added, "Anyway, good luck!"

Dyoni gave her an excited little wave and hurried out the door, barely disguising her eagerness to meet up with her new suitor.

"She'll need it," Tejana said aloud. "That Maerl has to be one of the most boring guys I've ever met. And I've met a few!"

If anyone else had been listening in, they would have assumed she had gone mad and was talking to herself, since the room around her appeared to be absolutely empty. But Tejana knew that it wasn't empty at all. Now that she was fully aware what she was looking for, she had sensed the Master as soon as she walked through the door. Dyoni wasn't the only one who had been waiting for her to return to the room. _YANA_, she told herself, recalling the message Theta had seen written in the sand. _You. Are. Not. Alone. _For the first time, she wasn't afraid of the invisible presence. Instead, despite her worries over their future, she felt comforted and protected.

"Of course," she continued, addressing the air with a touch of humour. "I don't suppose everyone can be lucky enough to end up with Gallifrey's most infamous son."

Although she still couldn't see or hear anyone else in the room, she could have sworn she sensed a current of amusement swelling around her. The Master had been responsible for many terrible things in his time, but at least no-one had ever accused him of being boring.

Tejana gave a small sigh and began to get ready for bed. It was a bit disturbing getting undressed, knowing someone was watching her, but not being able to see them – even though the 'someone' was the man she loved. Given that she had stripped for him any number of times before, in any number of sensual and erotic ways, getting undressed simply to pull on her nightgown and jump into bed shouldn't have bothered her in the least. Oddly enough, however, it did, her fingers awkward and clumsy as she undid the buttons on her dress. Again, she felt that ghostly ripple of amusement, as if he was enjoying her sudden attack of shyness.

With a flash of her old defiance, she pulled the dress over her head and threw it aside, until she stood proudly naked beside the bed, her copper hair tumbling loosely down her back. Then she reached for the white cotton nightgown which lay neatly folded on the pillow. But before she could grasp it, she found it had been twitched away from her, down to the middle of the mattress. Automatically, she grabbed for it again, only to have it pulled even further away.

"Oh, very funny!" she said sarcastically.

Obviously, the Master was already much stronger than she realised. In his intangible state, to be able to physically interact with his surroundings, even to this small degree, indicated an exceptional control over his morphic field. She supposed she shouldn't be surprised. When her life-mate wanted something badly enough, his ruthless determination and willpower were second to none.

Abruptly, she dived on the nightgown again, intent on reaching it first. But he was much too quick for her and it ended up on the floor across the other side of the room. She could almost feel him smirking at her unsuccessful efforts. Despite her exhaustion, she couldn't help laughing. This was a side to the Master she saw all too rarely, enough to treasure it dearly when she did – the playful, teasing, charming side. Those few, all too brief, occasional moments when he forgot his bitterness and rage, and it became about the two of them just being together, instead of about hatred and domination and revenge.

"All right, all right," she smiled. "You win. I get the point. No nightgown."

There was no reply, but the air seemed to shift and coil around her, full of unseen implications, as if he was summoning all his strength, all his formidable concentration. Then she felt two strong arms come around her from behind in an intimate embrace, pulling her close against a hard, lean, masculine body. Instantly, her eyes flew to the reflective surface of the mirror hanging opposite on the wall. Exhilaration flared and raced down her veins as she realised there was still no image showing in the glass except her own. The invisible arms tightened around her, gently rocking her back and forth in the lamplight, soothing her in a lulling, swaying motion. In any other circumstances, the experience would have been extremely eerie. However, knowing how much effort and energy he must be expending to manifest himself to this extent, Tejana merely closed her eyes and gave herself up to the comfort of the intimate movement, her hips swaying in perfect time with his, allowing her head to fall back against the warmth of his chest behind her, just as she had done many, many times before. She felt his invisible lips lightly brush the exposed curve of her neck and she drew her breath in sharply, a sensual shiver tracing up her spine.

His lips moved to her ear, his invisible hands moving over her body in a reassuring caress, travelling slowly down to her stomach, where they paused, cradling the place where their tiny baby nestled. She could feel a soft breath stirring the tendrils of her hair and then a husky voice whispered, "Ana. My beautiful Ana."

"_Amin Mekhil..._" she responded passionately, wanting nothing more than to hold on to him and never let him go again.

Yet even this little she had of him could not last. Already, his control over his morphic field was weakening and he was becoming less tangible, his arms fading from around her. "No, please don't go yet...stay with me, just for a while!"

But there was nothing either of them could do. He was little more than a ghost. Even his phenomenal will-power could not bridge the gap between non-existence and reality for very long. All too soon, he was gone again. She knew he was probably still there somewhere, watching over her, but she could no longer even sense his presence in the room.

Numbly, she climbed into bed, leaving the nightgown abandoned on the floor, all her laughter extinguished like a candle flame.

Without his plan, this was all she had to look forward to. This was all she and her child would ever know of him, fleeting glimpses, the occasional touch. And that was only if he didn't fade all together, becoming nothing more than a distant memory.

Everything inside her screamed in pain and denial at the thought.

Earlier, she had asked herself how she could possibly betray everything she believed in to save him.

Now she asked herself, how could she not?

* * *

Not far away, Theta stood outside a closed door, hesitating for a moment before knocking sharply. There was no reply. Using the psychic link, he ascertained easily enough that the person he was looking for was inside. They were merely staying quiet in the hope he would give up and go away. Ordinarily, he probably would have. But not this time. Instead, he ignored all the dictates of courtesy and opened the door wide, striding into the room beyond without invitation.

Koschei lay on his bed, his hands beneath his head, staring up at the ceiling. He didn't move as Theta entered, not even bothering to acknowledge his friend's intrusion. Theta stopped short and looked at him closely. Far from being his usual, immaculate self, Koschei looked ill. His hair was carelessly tousled and he had deep, dark circles etched under his navy-blue eyes, as if he hadn't slept for a month.

Concerned, Theta asked, "Kos, are you all right?"

Still Koschei didn't look at him. "I'm fine," he said flatly. "But I'm kind of busy. What do you want, Theta?"

_Busy doing WHAT? _Theta wanted to ask. As far as he could see, his friend was just lying there doing nothing. But he bit his tongue, knowing better than to antagonise Koschei when he was just about to ask him a favour.

"There's somewhere I want to go. But I can't go by myself. So, I was wondering if you'd come with me."

At least this statement appeared to get Koschei's attention, since he propped himself up on his elbows and focused his gaze intently on Theta's face. "Why do I get the feeling that this little expedition is going to be against the rules?"

Theta took a deep breath. This was going to be the tricky bit. While he didn't mind a bit of mischief-making in the background, Koschei tended to be fairly reluctant to overtly break the Academy rules, in case his overbearing father came to hear of it. Theta couldn't blame him for his hesitance – Lord Oakdown had doled out some extremely harsh punishments in the past, for what were actually quite minor infractions. He hated to think what would happen to Koschei if he was caught doing something really serious. If Theta hadn't had such a strong, gut feeling that the information he was seeking was important, he would never have asked his friend to come with him. They would just have to be extremely careful not to get caught, that was all, he reasoned to himself.

"Because it _is_ against the rules," he replied. "I want to sneak out down to Low Town."

"_You_ want to go to Low Town?" Koschei flopped back on to his pillow with a harsh, grating laugh. "You're kidding me, right?"

Theta blinked, a bit taken aback by his friend's reaction. "No, I'm not kidding. I really want to go."

Koschei's head turned on the pillow, his blue eyes burning with almost feverish demand. "_What for?_"

"Um, I don't know...curiosity...scientific research...find out how the other half live...that sort of thing," Theta rambled, uncomfortable under the other boy's piercing gaze. He couldn't exactly explain that he needed to find out all he could about the background of a Shabogan maidservant. Koschei would simply say he was mad and refuse to come. _What the hell's wrong with him, anyway?_ Theta wondered irritably. _Maybe he really is ill, even if he won't admit it. _ "The chances of me returning in one piece if I go on my own are next to nil," he continued. "So...will you come with me? I was planning on going as soon as possible, first thing tomorrow morning."

Before entering the room, Theta had rehearsed the conversation in his head, anticipating the need to overcome a whole list of objections and protests before Koschei would agree to accompany him. But to his surprise, his friend merely gave him a hard, mirthless grin, as if he saw some sort of hidden joke in Theta's request that he didn't intend to share.

"Sure, why not?" he replied in a mocking voice, returning his gaze to the ceiling. "Interesting place, Low Town. Who knows _what_ we might find? Should be an absolute blast."

* * *

**_Another Author's Note: If anyone is wondering about the significance of the trip to Low Town, I suggest you re-read Chapter Eleven of "The Master's Rose"._**


	19. Chapter 19

_**Author's Note:**_

_**Good evening! Thanks very much to all the lovely people who took the time and trouble to review since the last chapter was posted. As always, your feedback helps to make me the best writer that I can be, and I will always appreciate that more than I can say. It's very nice to know people care about this story.**_

_**So piles of gratitude to: MayFairy, EmmaMarie, GuesssWho, gallifrey calls now, MountainLord-92, Theta'sWorstNightmare, silentnight, Ahsilaa, sailormajinmoon, Geraldine, TheWickedHeart, Celestial Valkyrie, EDZEL2, Toolazytologin, BeautifulSpace (x 3), SawManiac211, Imorgen, mericat (x 5), Lost Moon and lookofwater.**_

_**Special welcome to new reviewers, Toolazytologin and lookofwater – thanks very much for dropping by, lovely to have you!**_

_**To silentnight: Yes, you have picked up on it exactly – Tejana being on Gallifrey has been one of the causes of events that lead to her being sent back to Gallifrey. Very timey-wimey! Thanks so much for the review :)**_

_**To Geraldine: So glad you are still loving it – here's some more for you ;)**_

_**To Toolazytologin: Thanks so much for no longer being a silent reader! It's terrific to get your feedback and I'm very excited that you like it so much.**_

_**To Beautifulspace: Thanks for your reviews. I hope you do very well on your test. As for Christmas, I have a very busy one coming up, so I'm not sure how often I'll be able to update for a while. But I tend to be a very private person and don't like to post a lot about my doings publicly on the internet, so I hope you'll forgive me if I don't go into too much detail about my plans :)**_

_**To Lost Moon: Well, there's a bit of Pandorica and a bit of Gallifrey in this chapter, so hopefully you will like! Thanks as always for the support! XXX**_

_**No real warnings for this one – although now that it's 'M' rated, I probably don't have to do that any more anyway! Yayyyy!**_

* * *

**- ****CHAPTER NINETEEN**** -**

"_Where do you come from?  
Tell me who you are!  
Do you come from another world  
Or from some distant star?  
_

_Where do you come from?  
Are you what you seem?  
Are you real,  
Are you standing there,  
Or is it just a dream?"_

_- Elvis Presley, Where Do You Come From? _

* * *

It seemed to take forever before everybody left and the museum closed for the night. Nevertheless, seven-year-old Amelia Pond waited patiently, concealed behind a display of Antarctic penguins. Every now and then a message would come over the PA system, urging her to report to the reception desk, where her aunt was waiting for her. Steadfastly, she ignored the tinny voice, just as she had earlier ignored Aunt Sharon herself, when her guardian had been running up and down past the exhibits shouting her name, in a voice that had escalated first from annoyed to worried, before finishing up somewhere in the region of outright panic.

Amelia did feel a little bit guilty for upsetting her aunt, but she didn't really think she had a choice. The first note, the one that had been put under their door at home, had instructed her to come here to the museum. And then once she got here, the second one, which had been stuck to that big grey box in the other room, had asked her to stick around. It was all very mysterious. Something exciting was obviously about to happen and she badly wanted to see what it was.

At last, all the visitors disappeared and the museum settled into silence. All the main lights clicked off, one by one, leaving the exhibits shrouded in an eerie gloom. With a loud rustle, Amelia slipped out from behind the simulated clump of dried grass where she had been hiding, accidentally knocking over one of the stuffed penguins as she went.

"Sorry," she whispered. Her voice seemed to echo back to her, making her jump. A small shiver ran up her spine. Everything seemed a lot more spooky now everyone else was gone. Suddenly her big adventure didn't seem like quite such a good idea after all. But there was no going back now, so she bravely stepped out into the middle of the hall and walked towards the room at the end, where the big box-thing was. The automatic sound effects built into the displays activated as she moved past, filling the air with mournful bird calls and spine-chilling howls. A huge, white polar bear, rearing up on his hind legs, seemed to glare fiercely down at her, savage jaws bared, as if it was preparing to attack. Swallowing hard, Amelia walked a little faster, trying to remind herself that this was a museum - none of the animals in here were alive any more.

Then she came to the strange robot things that looked like they had been carved out of grey ash. She didn't even know what they were, but for some reason, these peculiar objects made her more nervous than all the other creatures put together. Somehow, she couldn't shake the feeling that they were watching her, their long eye-stalks tilted in malice.

She was very glad to get safely past them and through the double doors into the room beyond. Pausing, she stared at the big grey cube with its ornate carving. The Pandorica – that's what the pamphlet which had been slipped through her door had said it was called. It reminded her of that old Greek legend about Pandora's Box. She had a book about it at home. The story was one of her absolute favourites, which was part of the reason why she had been so eager to come to the museum to check the Pandorica out.

In the legend, Pandora's Box had contained everything evil...until Pandora, in her curiosity, had foolishly opened the box and released it all upon the world. Amelia couldn't help wondering what was contained in _this_ box. A delicious thrill raced through her veins as her imagination went into over-drive. It couldn't be anything evil, surely. All her psychiatrists had told her there was no such thing as evil. Then again, they had also told her there were no such things as stars, and she just _knew_ with all her heart that wasn't right.

She edged slowly closer, her eyes fixed on the yellow post-it note still stuck on the side of the box, with "Stick around, Pond!" written on it in big red letters. She ducked under the rope barrier that fenced the Pandorica off from the rest of the room and pulled the note off, inspecting it minutely. There were no further instructions written there. What exactly was she supposed to do? What was she supposed to be waiting for? She looked up and down, but there were no other notes stuck anywhere that she could see. Not knowing what else to do, she reached out her hand and placed her palm flat against the wall of the Pandorica. It felt cold and rough, like stone. But, beneath her hand, it began to vibrate. All at once, the huge, circular engravings lit up with a phosphorescent green light and a series of loud, clanking, metallic noises came from the inside of the grey box. Alarmed at what she'd done, Amelia snatched her hand away and stepped back, retreating behind the rope as fast as she could.

As she watched, mesmerised, the wall that she'd touched slid back, releasing a blinding blaze of white light into the dark room. Amelia blinked painfully, raising her arm to shield her face from the brilliant glow, trying to see past it into the depths of the mysterious box. There was a dark figure seated inside there, in some sort of chair. As her vision gradually became accustomed to the brightness, the little girl saw that it was a young woman with long, ginger hair, very similar in colour to Amelia's own, dressed in tight black pants and a black jacket, with a red, woollen scarf wrapped around her neck and red, fingerless gloves on her hands.

"OK, kid," she said, grimly raising her head and fixing her gaze on Amelia. "This is where it gets complicated."

Before Amelia could answer, the woman pushed down on the arms of the chair and tried to stand. However, it appeared she was much too weak. She wobbled around like a new-born foal and then her legs seemed to go out from under her. With a small cry, she stumbled forward out of the Pandorica, ending up on all fours on the floor in front of the little girl, her chest heaving as she sucked in frantic gasps of air.

"Are you all right?" Amelia asked, utterly confused by this turn of events. Whatever she had expected when she stayed back in the museum after hours, it wasn't this. The woman didn't seem to be scary in any way. Just really, really weird. "Who_ are_ you?"

The stranger sat heavily on the floor, still trying to control her laboured breathing. "I'm...fine," she replied, without really answering the question. "I'm supposed to...rest. Got to rest...the Doctor says."

Amelia stared. "_What _doctor?"

"He's in here," the woman responded, tapping her head with a slender forefinger. "Left a message in my head like I'm an answer phone." A startled frown creased her brow. "Wait a minute, that's really strange. He's not the only one. I can hear another voice talking too, over the top of the Doctor...drowning him out..." Her hand flew to her forehead, her face crumpling in agonising pain. "No, don't! Please, _don't_...I can't...I _can't._.."

Her voice cut off and her eyes went eerily blank. Amelia took a wary step backwards, all the tiny hairs standing up on the back of her neck in apprehension. Suddenly, the woman looked just like a porcelain doll she had been given for Christmas once. Her face was completely smooth and empty, wiped clean of expression or personality. It was as if she couldn't even see Amelia any more. Instead, she looked like she was listening to something Amelia couldn't hear - something talking inside her own head.

_Something that wasn't good._

"Excuse me...are you _sure_ you're OK?" Amelia ventured timidly.

The red-headed woman didn't reply. Slowly and mechanically, she rose to her feet and turned back towards the Pandorica, moving with jerky steps, like a sleep-walker. Amelia wondered if she should grab her arm and shake it to get her attention. But Aunt Sharon had told her once that waking a sleep-walker was the wrong thing to do, and could be very harmful, so she didn't like to try. Besides, she didn't want to get any closer to the Pandorica than she already was. All her instincts were telling her that the box was bad and that she should stay away.

The woman reached into the top pocket of her jacket and drew out a tubular rod with a green light in the end. Extending her arm in a stiff, robotic movement, she pointed it at the Pandorica and pressed a button. The green light glowed and there was a high-pitched, buzzing sound. Immediately, a second wall of the big grey cube began to slide back.

Amelia looked into the light again, belatedly realising that there was someone else still inside the box. It was a man, dressed all in black, with messy, white-blonde hair. Unlike the woman, he was trapped in his chair, unable to move, with heavy iron cuffs around his wrists and his ankles and a big thing holding his head and shoulders in place. Even though he looked ordinary enough, something about him made the little girl tremble inside. He was smiling at the woman, but Amelia didn't think it was a very nice smile.

Knowing instinctively that something was very wrong, she took her courage in both hands and blurted out, "Who are you? Why are you all locked up like that?"

Even as she spoke, the red-headed woman touched the buzzing rod to the man's wrists, each in turn, and his restraints fell away like magic. Then she knelt down before him, like a subject before her king, and proceeded to do the same to his ankle cuffs. The man raised his hands in front of his face and flexed his wrists, before his hard, brown eyes zeroed in on Amelia's face. His smile widened into an evil leer and her heart skipped a beat in fright, suddenly realising that she, like Pandora, had just made a very big mistake.

"I am your Lord and Master, Amelia Pond," he rasped. "And the reason I'm locked up is because I am a _very_..._bad_..._man_."

* * *

The Master hovered above Tejana's bed, looking down on her and watching her sleep. He remembered doing the same thing with her previous incarnation during their journey inside the Matrix, her dark curls tumbling around her shoulders in tempting disarray as she leant against him, her fine-boned face flushed and vulnerable. Since then, it had always given him a possessive stab of pleasure to know that her sleep was peaceful because of him, the simple fact of his nearness cancelling out the nightmares of centuries. Apart from when he had been playing a role, such as Professor Yana, or Harold Saxon, it had been a very long time since his presence had provided any kind of beneficial effect on the people around him. And while that wasn't something that generally concerned him, in Tejana's case the novelty of it intrigued him so much that he didn't think he would ever tire of it.

As far as her current incarnation went, watching her sleep was even more pleasurable, because it gave him the added relief of knowing exactly where she was and what she was doing. It was the only time he could be reasonably certain that she was staying out of trouble. When it came to Tejana, his primary aims were two-fold: keeping her with him and keeping her safe. It sounded simple and straightforward enough, but since her latest regeneration, both objectives had proved to be extremely challenging. Despite his efforts, the tempestuous, fiery little red-head consistently managed to attract danger like a magnet. It was slowly beginning to dawn on him that keeping her out of harm's way was going to be a full time job.

But not for long, he assured himself grimly. Once his plan came to fruition and he became the Kitriarch of the House of Oakdown, as her husband he would see to it that she stayed safely within the confines of the Oakdown Estates, caring for their son. Surely even Tejana would find it difficult to get into trouble there.

He knew she was far from convinced about going along with what he intended. That was no surprise – he knew her too well to have expected anything any different. She was not as altruistic as the Doctor, but she still had enough of her father in her to automatically reject his ideas of conquest and domination. However, she had always been fiercely protective of those she loved, almost to the exclusion of everything else. It was her major weakness. That was why he had expended so much of his precious energy in manipulating his morphic field to enable him to touch her just now, even though he had been invisible to her. The physical connection between them had always been so strong, so utterly compelling, ever since that first encounter in the Matrix. He knew that his touch would remind her how much she wanted him, and that she needed to fight for the survival of what they had between them. It was the only chance he had to persuade her to agree to his plan. Going by the doubt and confusion in her eyes as she had climbed into bed, he thought he was well on the way to succeeding.

For a moment, he was tempted to merge his mind with hers and enter her dreams, as he had the first night she had been back on Gallifrey. He had meant to communicate with her, to explain to her what had happened, so she wouldn't be afraid. But she had looked so beautiful lying there on the bed and he had gotten temporarily distracted by his own lust. Then that stupid servant girl had interfered and had woken Ana from her sleep, shattering their tenuous connection.

Unfortunately, as attractive as the idea was, right now he didn't think he had enough energy remaining even to attempt dream-sharing with her. Unlike Anzor, Tejana's mental defences were formidable. The Master had only been able to by-pass them that first time because he had walked through her dreams before and knew which paths to take. But trying to do it again, while he was in such a drained condition, wasn't a viable option.

He reached out to touch her copper-coloured hair, only to feel his fingers passing right through her, his hand as insubstantial as smoke. She murmured his name softly in her sleep, tossing her head back and forth fretfully.

Irritation at the situation welled inside him. This wasn't the first time he had been without a tangible body. In his determination to cling to life over the centuries, he had probably spent more time outside his Time Lord form than in it. He thought of the long years he had spent inhabiting the body of Consul Tremas from the planet Traken. It had taken him a good while to get used to the limitations of that body – one heart, somewhat advanced in years, no respiratory bypass system... But he had eventually become accustomed to it, adapting and improving where necessary, and the body had served him well, until he'd been tried and executed on Skaro as part of a Time Lord-Dalek treaty.

It would be a lot easier this time. After all, the body that he would be possessing would be his own, albeit his much younger self. A young, strong, familar Time Lord body, with a full complement of regenerations at his disposal. Once he was strong enough to achieve that, in just a few days, he could enjoy touching Ana whenever and however he pleased.

The only other thing he needed to do to put his plan into motion was to remove the obstacle of his father. And that part of it would be nothing but pleasure.

Confident that Tejana was deeply asleep and unlikely to get into any trouble, he left her room and drifted over to the guest wing of the Academy. Being incorporeal had many draw-backs, but it had some significant advantages too, such as being able to float through walls. It made getting around so much quicker. It didn't take him long to locate Lord Oakdown's room.

As he materialised invisibly inside, it soon became apparent that although his father was also in bed, he was far from asleep. The lights were turned down low and a series of passionate moans and muffled grunts filled the air. Lord Oakdown was lying on top of a very young, very blonde Time Lady the Master vaguely recognised as one of his long-ago classmates, thrusting powerfully inside her, his face a twisted mask of desire.

Looking down at the two lovers entwined in their illicit, carnal embrace, the Master felt the old fury - the old humiliation, the old disgust - boiling up inside him. As a boy, he had often wondered why his father had so rarely brought his mother to visit when he had come to the Academy. Looking back, it was easy enough to see why. This place must have seemed like one big whorehouse to the sodding old lecher - full of nubile young Time Ladies, only too pleased to jump into bed with the great Lord Oakdown, only too willing to do whatever he wished, no matter how vile. And while young Koschei had been striving so hard to live up to all the impossible ideals heaped on him by his unforgiving parent, the lying, hypocritical old son-of-a-bitch had been shaming him behind his back with his female classmates.

In his anger, there was nothing he wanted more than to kill his father right there and then, and the woman too, in the middle of their depravity, so that everyone on Gallifrey would know exactly how worthless Lord Oakdown had truly been. But somehow he managed to rein in his temper, knowing the success of his plan depended upon it. Gallifreyan society was extremely rigid and correct. If the Master wanted to take over as the Kitriarch of the House of Oakdown, he couldn't allow gossip to smear the family name. There would be more than enough talk when he took a Shabogan servant girl as his wife. He had no doubt that little indiscretion would eventually be put down to the impetuousness of youth and would be forgiven when his son was born. But he couldn't afford any further scandal if he wanted to end up becoming President. It had been a long while since he had navigated the shark-infested waters of Gallifreyan politics, but he hadn't forgotten the required protocol.

No, even if he had currently been strong enough, he couldn't kill Lord Oakdown in the same covert way he had attacked Anzor. He needed to be cleverer than that. It had to be seen as an accident. And it had to happen somewhere very, very public, so that there were never any questions about Koschei's sudden succession to the title of Kitriarch.

_Otherstide, _the Master thought in sudden satisfaction. It was only two days until the Otherstide Ball. And you couldn't get much more public than that.

The loud grunting from the bed escalated as Lord Oakdown neared his climax. If the Master had been corporeal, he would have spat on the floor in contempt. He couldn't help reflecting how much his father sounded like a rabid pig. He hoped to all the gods he didn't sound like that when he was coming. He would have to remember to ask Ana some time.

All at once, Lord Oakdown stopped dead and looked around, breathing heavily.

"My Lord?" a thin, female voice whined in protest from beneath him. "My Lord, is there something wrong?"

He stared around the room, his cold, arrogant eyes focusing directly on the place where his invisible son stood. "I just thought I sensed something..." he said. Then, raising his voice imperiously, he demanded, "Is there anyone there? Show yourself!"

There was nothing but a deep silence, punctuated only by the desperate panting of the woman.

"Please, my Lord...there's no-one there. Don't stop, I'm begging you, I'm so close..."

Lord Oakdown ignored her for a few more moments, his eyes continuing to intently search the shadows in the room. The Master stood still, transfixed by savage anticipation, waiting for his father to see him, daring him to understand exactly what was coming for him. But then the woman's writhing body reclaimed Lord Oakdown's attention and he returned to what he was doing, amid cries of ecstasy from his lover.

_Enjoy it while you can, Father, _the Master thought malevolently as he turned away and walked through the wall. _Because at the Otherstide Ball...you DIE._

* * *

When Tejana finally woke, she was feeling a lot better. It always amazed her how much good a deep and dreamless sleep could do. It was better than any medicine, helping to restore her optimism, no matter how dire the situation. She wasn't giving up. There had to be some hope, some way to fix everything, she was sure of it. The old saying was true – things always did look better in the morning.

Fortunately, on this particular morning, it was still very early, so she was still in plenty of time to arrive down at the kitchen for her breakfast shift. Right now, Fionnula's wrath was one thing she could definitely do without.

She sat up in bed and stretched, before suddenly realising she was naked. She could see her white nightgown still crumpled on the floor, and all the details of both her encounters with the Master the previous night came rushing back into her head. Quickly, she scanned the small room, searching for some trace of his distinctive presence, but there was nothing. She wasn't entirely sure whether that was because he simply wasn't there, or if it was just that his morphic field was currently too weak for her to pick up.

After all, she thought wryly, having an intangible life-mate was all still pretty new to her. It was going to take some getting used to.

Her hand slid down to her stomach, just as it did every morning, welcoming her child to the new day. _So, where's your Daddy then, little one? _she asked silently. _Is he here, or is he off wreaking havoc somewhere else?_

Predictably enough, there was no reply from the tiny, developing baby. With a sigh, Tejana pulled back the covers and swung her bare legs over the side of the bed.

On the other side of the room, Dyoni stirred, still wrapped in her blankets, before rolling over and staring at Tejana blearily.

"So you made it back in one piece, I see," Tejana teased.

_Gods_, she thought, _I must have slept deeply._ _I didn't even hear Dyoni come in._

Usually she was much more alert than that, even while she slept. It just went to show how exhausted she had been. "So how did the big date go?"

Dyoni frowned in confusion. "Date?"

"Your walk with Maerl," Tejana clarified, silently cursing her unconscious slip into twenty-first century Earth slang.

But Dyoni was evidently in no mood to home in on the mistake. Her eyes were starry and her lips were curved into a soft, tender smile. She was hugging her pillow to her, as if she was imagining it was Maerl. "Oh, it was wonderful!" she breathed. "He's just so brilliant. Did you know that there are three hundred and twenty seven different varieties of flutterwing in the Lake Abydos area alone?"

"No, actually, I didn't know that," Tejana said blankly. "Wow. Who'd have thought?"

Dyoni nodded enthusiastically. "Isn't it amazing?"

"Yeah, totally astonishing. Um, Dyoni, you didn't spend the whole time with Maerl talking about flutterwings, did you?"

The other girl laughed. "No, of course not, silly!"

"Well, that's a relief!" Tejana said fervently.

"He's an expert on fledershrews and cobblemice as well!"

Tejana stared at her friend incredulously, trying to decide whether Dyoni was winding her up. But the other girl was clearly off in a happy, radiant world of her own, full of Maerl and his amazing brilliance. _Flutterwings and fledershrews...you have to be kidding!_ Tejana couldn't help remembering the hot, exquisite pleasure of the Master's lips on her skin, his hands intimately stroking and caressing her everywhere, the weight of his body crushing hers as he took her over and over again...

With a small gasp, she dragged herself out of her heated memories back to reality. Now _that _was her idea of a date, she thought with wry amusement, not chatting for hours about Gallifreyan wildlife. But everyone was different, she supposed. It just went to show that there was someone for everyone.

"That's great, Dyoni. Really, really...great!" she said sincerely, reaching for her clothes and starting to pull them on. "But I have to get going, otherwise I'll be late for breakfast duty."

Dyoni, who was not scheduled on for breakfast, merely snuggled back down into her bedclothes with a contented sigh, no doubt to dream some more about Maerl and his flutterwings. With a tolerant but exasperated smile, Tejana let her be and hurried about her own business.

* * *

The Refectory was absolutely crowded with students, both junior and senior. Breakfast was one of the busiest meal times of the day for the domestic staff, since nearly everyone had early lectures.

Like everyone else, Tejana was nearly run off her feet, fetching and carrying, bring out fresh food to the tables and clearing away the mess and debris from meals already eaten. As always, despite her hectic labour, her eyes were drawn inexorably to the Deca table. Eight of the ten members were there, chatting and laughing amongst themselves as they ate their meal. But two of the chairs were empty. Neither Theta or Koschei were there.

She wasn't sure why, but an unnamed foreboding suddenly wound its way around her hearts, an unexplained sensation of anxiety.

There was no reason to worry, she told herself. Just because they chose not to attend breakfast, didn't mean there was anything wrong. Perhaps they had slept in, or perhaps they weren't hungry. Perhaps they were just off on some mission of their own that had nothing to do with her at all. Really, she should be glad. After yesterday, facing up to either of them was the last thing she wanted to do. Even so, their absence ate away at her, unease festering in the back of her mind. If she had been able to get Millennia or even Drax on their own, she might have been tempted to ask them if they knew where the other two boys were. But they sat surrounded by the rest of the Deca, including a cold-eyed, angry-looking Ushas, and she didn't dare.

After all the students had finished their meal and the servants had cleaned the Refectory to Fionnula's exacting standards, Tejana was despatched back to the ballroom with a team of other servants, to finish the preparations for Otherstide. All her senses were on alert, fully expecting young Koschei to somehow turn up at any minute, looking for her, as he had done yesterday. But the morning stretched on and on, and there was no sign of him. She could feel her tension mounting as she helped to polish the marble floor, the very same floor they had made love on the day before. _Where was he?_ There was no way in all the world he would just leave things as they were, not after what had happened between them. It was impossible. So why hadn't he come to find her, searching for answers? Had something happened to him after she left him last night?

By the end of the morning, all her optimism and hope had drained away again, dragged down into a spreading riptide of worry. She had worked herself up into such an anxious state, that it was almost a relief to see the shadowy figure, half-concealed behind one of the pillars at the entrance to the ballroom, waiting to waylay her as she went back to the kitchen for the midday meal with the other servants. As much as she was dreading this confrontation, it was better to get it over with than to stew about it all day. The anticipation was killing her.

However, when she drew nearer to the anonymous figure, she realised that it was not Koschei at all, but Theta. And one look at his face served to confirm every one of her worst fears. He had obviously been involved in some sort of fight. His tunic was torn, his features badly bruised and cut, and his left eye was swollen almost shut.

"Oh, stars, Lord Theta, are you all right?" she gasped. "What happened?"

"I made a mistake," he said tersely. "A bad one."

"A mistake? What sort of a mistake?"

He grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her further into the shadow of the pillar, away from any interested eyes that might be passing by. "I was curious. About you."

"About me?" A cold feeling settled in her stomach. What the hell had happened? Had the Master done this to him, to protect her in some way, just as he had when Anzor threatened her? But surely he must know that Theta would never harm her. And where was young Koschei? "What are you talking about?"

Instead of releasing her, Theta's hand tightened almost painfully on her wrist, his blue eyes boring insistently into hers. "You don't add up, Kat. Nothing about you makes sense. You don't behave like any servant I've ever known, especially not a Shabogan servant. You're too proud, too arrogant - the way you speak, the way you carry yourself, everything about you! And you just happen to turn up at the Academy at the same time as these cracks in the continuum are beginning to manifest. The same time that Anzor gets mysteriously attacked. The same time that Ushas gets trapped in a rogue temporal loop. It's all a bit much of a coincidence, don't you think?"

Tejana pulled away from him, twisting her wrist in an attempt to get free. "You're hurting me!" she gritted out. "And I still have no idea what you're talking about."

"Don't you?" he said harshly, refusing to relax his bruising grip. "Every time I tried to talk to you about Low Town, the place you were supposed to come from, you changed the subject, as if you had something to hide. So I decided to go there to find out for myself what it was."

"_Low Town!_" Tejana froze in horror, the terrible realisation striking her like a slap in the face. "You've been to _Low Town? _Oh gods, please tell me you didn't take Koschei! Please tell me he didn't go there because of me!"

Theta's face hardened in anger. "Yeah, I took Koschei. And, guess what? When we got there, we went into a tavern, because I thought that if I bought a drink and got into casual conversation with the bar-tender, I might be able to ask a few questions about you and your family. But instead, we bumped into Kelios, son of Aminestra, and a few of his Shabogan friends."

_Kelios, son of Aminestra...and bastard son of Lord Marnal Oakdown..._

Tejana's legs nearly went from under her at the sound of the hated name. Images flashed before her eyes, snapshots of the the vision the Master had shown her on Mnemosyne of that first terrible confrontation between the half-brothers – the shock and anguish the young Koschei had experienced as he found out the truth about his father, the brutal beating he had received at the hands of Kelios and his friends. Sickness gathered at the back of her throat. It had been bad enough to mentally share the horrible memory with her life-mate, without finding out that she was the one who had caused it all to happen!

"You knew all about Kelios, didn't you, Kat?" Theta snapped. "You knew all about his connection to the House of Oakdown, before you ever came to the Academy. Don't bother to deny it, I can tell by the look on your face!"

She didn't bother to deny it. Instead, she just ignored the question, focusing urgently on the only thing that mattered to her right then. "Koschei, how is he? Is he all right?"

"He's a mess. Those Shabogans beat him half to death," Theta replied, his voice trembling with grief and outrage. "I couldn't stop them. He's in the Infirmary. The med-techs used the tissue rectifier on him. They say he'll be all right in a couple of days. But he won't talk to me. He just turns his back and stares at the wall. I can't get him to say a word, except..." His voice trailed away, as if he was reluctant to complete the sentence.

"Except?" she prompted anxiously.

"Except that he wants to see _you_. That's why I'm here. To pass on the message. To ask you to go and see him."

Tejana's throat tightened at the flat, unfriendly tone of his voice, so different to the casual affection he had shown her before. She knew her father well enough to realise that Theta was very, very angry about what had happened to his friend. The only question was who his anger was truly aimed at. Was it really at her, as it appeared, for giving him a reason to visit Low Town? Or was it at himself, for taking Koschei with him on his ill-fated mission in the first place?

"You don't think I should go, do you?"

"I don't know. You tell me!" Theta growled bitterly. "Koschei agreed to come to Low Town a lot more willingly than I expected. And there's obviously something between you two that I'm not aware of, otherwise he wouldn't ask for you. So what exactly have I missed?"

At last, Tejana succeeded in twisting her hand free, and she took a step backwards, away from him.

"It isn't what you think. Not exactly, anyway."

"Oh really? What is it then?" he demanded. "Who _are_ you really, Kat? What are you doing here? And why do I feel such a strong connection with you? Why do I feel that I should trust you, when every instinct I possess is warning me that you're a liar?"

She bit her lip, wishing with both her hearts she could tell him the truth. But the causal nexus was already tying itself in knots. That was clearly illustrated by what had just happened in Low Town. Simply by being here, she had inadvertently provoked one of the very events that had led to her being sent back to Gallifrey in the first place. By causing Koschei to meet his brother, she had precipitated their lifelong enmity, leading to the creation of the _Cruciform_ during the Time War and the birth of the Chaos-Master on Mnemosyne, which had been the reason the real Master had been forced to pull her through the crack to safety. Even for a Time Lord, the paradoxic circularity of it all was difficult to fully comprehend. All she knew for sure was that she couldn't make the situation worse by trying to explain it all to Theta.

She shook her head and spread her arms in a helpless gesture. Apart from her confusing relationship with Koschei, Theta was her only ally on Gallifrey. The last thing she wanted to do was to alienate him. But, since she couldn't answer his questions, it seemed she had no choice.

"I am what you see, Lord Theta. I can't tell you any more than that. And that, whatever you might believe, I intend no harm - to you, to Lord Koschei, or to anyone else on Gallifrey."

With that, she turned away from him and began to walk up the passageway towards the transmat tubes.

"Wait, Kat! I haven't finished with you yet. Where the hell do you think you're going?" he called angrily after her.

"I have nothing more to say to you," she replied over her shoulder, without slowing her pace. "And I'm going to the Infirmary. Where else?"

He made no further attempt to stop her, but she could feel him watching her, his eyes heavy and suspicious on her back, as she left him standing alone in the corridor behind her. With a chill of recognition, she realised her time of anonymity was running out. His agile mind was still ticking over. In true Doctor-style, he would never let it go until he put it all together.

_Piece by piece by piece._


	20. Chapter 20

**_Author's Note: _**

**_Howdy, I'm back! Sorry for being AWOL for a while, the last couple of weeks have been pretty full on. However, I'm back now. So any PMs or review replies or reading chapters I have yet to catch up on will be dealt with shortly, I promise._  
**

**_Thanks very much for the reviewers on the previous chapter: MayFairy, MountainLord-92, irishartemis, TheWritingKat, BeautifulSpace (x 3), EmmaMarie, silentnight, Celestial Valkyrie, KlinicallyInsaneKoschei, Lost moon, Ahsilaa, sailormajinmoon, Theta'sWorstNightmare, Geraldine, lookofwater, JessieDear13, meloyelow123, Imorgen, rosalina, EDZEL2, Lillyrose and jg.  
_**

**_To beautifulspace - Thank you very much for your 'fan-girling' and your reviews, LOL.  
_**

**_To silentnight - Well, here is Chapter 20 at last. Not sure it will answer any of your questions just yet, but hopefully you will enjoy anyway. XXX  
_**

**_To Lost Moon - I'm afraid you may have to wait a little longer to find out what happens at the ball, but it's definitely coming.  
_**

**_To Geraldine - As above, the stuff about the ball is coming, but not quite yet :) Thanks for your review.  
_**

**_To Rosalina - Thanks for catching up and reviewing, much appreciated.  
_**

**_To Lillyrose and jg - Always exciting to have some new reviewers, very glad you are both enjoying it so far.  
_**

**_Enormous wave to MountainLord-92, who was my 3,000th reviewer since publishing the original "One Moment in Time" story back in May 2010. Thank you very much to anyone who has ever reviewed and formed part of that total. I love you all.  
_**

* * *

**- CHAPTER TWENTY -**

**"_It all goes back...to our mothers and fathers, and theirs before them. We are puppets dancing on the strings of those who came before us, and one day our own children will take up our strings and dance in our stead."  
_**

**_- Tyrion Lannister, A Song of Ice and Fire  
_**

* * *

Little Amelia Pond blinked. She felt almost as if she had been asleep. But that couldn't be right, because she was standing up. And you couldn't go to sleep standing up, could you? That would just be silly.

She looked around. She was in a large, dimly-lit room she didn't immediately recognise. Perhaps this was a dream. It didn't feel like a dream though. There was an odd, scared feeling in the pit of her stomach that made it seem much more like a nightmare.

"Are you all right, kid?" a voice suddenly asked, making her jump.

Turning, she saw a woman with long red hair standing nearby. Behind her, there was an enormous grey cube with strange markings on the sides. No openings were visible anywhere. For some reason, that fact really bothered Amelia. The scared feeling inside her stomach grew even bigger. It was as if she had seen the mysterious big box before, only then it had been open..._and something bad had been inside..._

Struggling to remember, she returned her attention to the red-headed woman. "Where are we?"

"The National Museum, I think," the woman responded. She looked almost as dazed and disoriented as Amelia felt, as though someone had just snapped their fingers in her face and woken her from a deep sleep. "I was here once when I was a little..." She broke off abruptly, her eyes zeroing in on Amelia. "Yeah, complicated."

_The National Museum,_ Amelia thought. Wait a minute, she remembered that. This wasn't a dream after all. That big box was named the Pandorica. There had been a note about it under the door and she had come here with Aunt Sharon to see it, hadn't she? And then she had hidden and waited for everyone to leave. How had she forgotten _that_? She could remember touching the Pandorica and this woman coming out of it. _And then...and then..._ She scowled, trying to force herself to remember. But no matter how much she racked her brains, she couldn't recall what had come next. This woman had been inside the Pandorica, but she wasn't the bad thing...there had been _something else_.

"Who are you?" she demanded, determined not to show how frightened she was.

"It's a long story," the woman replied in a preoccupied voice. Her eyes had shifted beyond Amelia and had locked on to an information panel on the wall, which displayed the two thousand year history of the Pandorica pictorially, in the form of a timeline. "Ohhhh... a _very_ long story."

She pressed a button on the wall. A large screen lit up with a video presentation, showing pictures of a uniformed Roman soldier standing guard beside the Pandorica, complete with a recorded commentary in a nasal, male voice. "The Lone Centurion. He appears as an iconic image in the artwork of many cultures, and there are several documented accounts of his appearances and his warnings to the many who attempted to open the box before its time. His last recorded appearance was during the London blitz in 1941. The warehouse where the Pandorica was stored was destroyed by incendiary bombs, but the box itself was found the next morning, a safe distance from the blaze. There are eyewitness accounts from the night of the fire of a figure in Roman dress, carrying the box from the flames."

The screen showed an artist's impression of a Roman soldier dragging the Pandorica out of the heart of a fiery inferno. The woman stared at the screen, obviously transfixed by what the commentator was saying. Amelia looked at her face curiously. She had gone very pale and there were tears slowly falling down her cheeks. "Rory," she moaned in an anguished voice. "Oh, Rory!"

Amelia started at the familiar name. _Rory! _ She had a friend at school called Rory. Her best friend, actually. She stared hard at the stylised pictures on the screen. Had this Lone Centurion guy been called Rory too? It seemed like a funny sort of a name for a Roman, especially one that had been so heroic. She couldn't imagine _her_ Rory doing something heroic and romantic like saving anyone from a raging fire. He was only a school-kid, and pretty weedy into the bargain, not much better than a girl, really. She could beat him in a fight with one hand tied behind her back. If he saw a fire, she thought he'd be much more likely to run away crying than to drag anything to safety.

"Since then," the commentary continued, "There have been no sightings of the Lone Centurion, and many have speculated that - if he ever existed - he perished in the fires of that night, performing one last act of devotion to the box he had pledged to protect for nearly 2,000 years."

The woman from the Pandorica was crying in earnest now, tears pouring down her face. She certainly seemed very upset that her Rory might be dead. Amelia wondered if he had been her boyfriend or husband or something. She was about to ask when there was a sudden flash of light and two men appeared out of nowhere, in the middle of the room, just like magic. One was quite young-looking, with floppy brown hair and nice, blueish-green eyes. He was dressed in a fusty old jacket, with a maroon bow tie and old-fashioned braces. The other man was older, tall and well-built, wearing a bright red jacket with dark jeans and high, leather boots. He had a hard, watchful face, and little Amelia thought he looked extremely dangerous.

The red-headed woman's face lit up in joy. "Doctor!" she cried, throwing herself into the arms of the young man with the bow tie. "Am I glad to see you!"

"Amy! You're all right!" the Doctor responded, enthusiastically returning her hug. Then his eyes fell on Amelia and he gave a funny grimace. "Ah! Two of you. Complicated."

Confused, Amelia turned and looked behind her, but there was no-one else there. She wasn't quite sure what this Doctor meant about there being two of the woman called Amy, but right now, in this crazy, magical place, nothing would have surprised her, even a second red-headed woman standing behind her.

The man in the red jacket swaggered forwards, looking Amy up and down with evident interest. "Don't I get a hug too?" he asked in a suggestive voice, his arms stretched wide and his tone layered with mockery.

In return, Amy impaled him with a frosty look that clearly said she wasn't in the mood for any jokes. "Who the _hell_ are you?"

"He's a friend of mine," the Doctor said hurriedly. "Sort of, anyway. Captain John Hart, this is Amy and Amelia. Ladies, Captain John Hart."

Hart gave them both a wolfish grin. "The pleasure is all mine, ladies, I assure you."

Despite the aura of danger that still swirled around him, he was very charming, and Amelia couldn't help smiling back. But Amy ignored him and gripped the Doctor's arm urgently. "What happened to Rory? I remember...there was a gun, it came out of his hand! And that information video said he stayed with the Pandorica wherever it went, guarding it for nearly two thousand years! How could he possibly live that long?"

The Doctor sighed. "Because he's not really Rory, that's how."

"Yes, he is! What are you saying? Of course he is!" she insisted.

"No. He's a Nestene duplicate. A sentient android made out of plastic. All the Romans at Stonehenge were androids, put there by my enemies to help trap me inside the Pandorica. They were nothing but constructs, drawn from your memories to create a scenario I would find believable."

"No...I spoke to him...I touched him!"

"When the real Rory was killed by the Silurians, he fell into a crack in the Universe and he became one of the Neverwere. But I'm starting to think all the cracks are linked, across time and space. And you've been living for years with one in your bedroom wall. Ever since you were a little girl, untold waves of antilositic energy pouring out and flowing directly through your dreams, infiltrating and conditioning your brain, effectively converting you into a living, breathing temporal storage device. _I _think, when the Nestene stole the memories of Rory from your mind, they got more than they bargained for – they got his heart and mind and soul as well."

"What, like Pinocchio becoming a real boy?" Amy asked sceptically. "I stored the memory of him and made him real, is that what you're trying to say?"

"In a way, yes," the Doctor agreed. "The real Rory's soul inside a plastic body."

"But that video presentation said there's been no sightings of him since 1945! What happened to him?"

The Doctor stepped across to the screen, looking closely at the picture of the centurion dragging the Pandorica from the flames. "Like I said, he was made of plastic, Amy," he told her gently. "I warned him to stay away from fire, but..."

She shook her head, a mutinous expression on her tear-stained face. "No. No, I won't believe that. I _can't_."

The Doctor patted her on the shoulder reassuringly. "We don't know anything for sure, yet," he said. "But we'll do our utmost to find out what happened to him, I promise!"

Captain Hart's eyebrows rose inquiringly. "_We?_" he cut in, apparently unmoved by Amy's anguish. "I sincerely hope you're not including me in that."

The Doctor glared at him. "As a matter of fact, yeah, I was."

"Oh _right_, now I understand the problem!" Hart nodded sagely to himself. "You've obviously got me confused with someone who gives a shit. Well, I've got news for you, Doc. I couldn't care less about what happened to your Roman buddy during the last two thousand years. The important thing is, what happened to Evil Twin of Blondie?"

The Doctor's glare became even more pronounced. However, it appeared he was wasting his time. Hart merely returned his stare, with the air of one who was well used to being glared at and had long since ceased to care. Watching from the sidelines, Amelia felt impressed, wondering if she could manage to pull off that same bad-ass look the next time Aunt Sharon glared at her.

Giving up, the Doctor turned back to Amy. "Now, listen to me, Pond, this is very important. I left you a psychic message about the Chaos-Master, the creature that looks like the Master but isn't. He was inside the Pandorica with you. Is he still safely locked in there?"

"Of course," Amy shrugged calmly. "I closed the door again as soon as I got out, just like you told me."

Amelia's head shot up at this. None of them were paying the slightest bit of attention to her, so she had shrewdly been keeping quiet and doing her best to keep up with the conversation. Every kid knew that the most interesting stuff got said when the adults forgot you were in the room, stuff that you would never find out about otherwise. And even though a lot of their exchange had gone right over her head – particularly when it came to that Doctor bloke, who seemed to have swallowed a dictionary or something – something twitched in the back of her brain, like a worm wriggling on the end of a hook, some sixth sense screaming out to her that Amy was lying and that there was something she should be remembering, something _important_...

But before she could think what it was, or even mention it to the adults, a movement in the shadows caught her eye. Something was skirting along the wall just beyond the Pandorica, near the doorway leading into the next gallery. Curiously, Amelia stared at it, trying to make it out. Whatever it was, it wasn't very tall and it had an ungainly sort of gait, almost like a waddle.

The Doctor was frowning at Amy. "He didn't say anything to you?"

"No, nothing. He didn't even move."

There was more than one of them. As they came closer to the light, Amelia could see four or five heads bobbing along. Nervous now, she moved closer to the Doctor and tugged at his jacket. But the Doctor just kept on talking, without looking down. Amelia was beginning to wonder if he ever stopped.

"He must still be in his suspension trance," he said to John Hart. "Satisfied now?"

Hart gave him an arrogant smirk. "Doc, if you knew me at all, you'd know I'm _never _satisfied!"

Amelia pulled even more frantically on the Doctor's jacket. "What's that?" she asked.

At last, he glanced down, his gaze following her pointing finger to the small shapes waddling out of the shadows. "Adélie penguin," he answered absently, his thoughts obviously elsewhere, his eyes returning to fix on the Pandorica. "_Pygoscelis adeliae. _Very common along the Antarctic coast."

"But we're not on the Antarctic coast!" Amelia said worriedly, tugging at him again. "We're in a museum."

"Yes," he agreed. "The National Mus..." He broke off suddenly and whirled around. "What did you say?"

"I said, we're in a museum!"

"Of course we're in a museum!" he snapped. "And there shouldn't be live penguins wandering around in a museum!"

Faster than lightning, John Hart drew a gun from the holster on his hip and aimed it squarely at the doorway.

"Don't you dare shoot them, Hart!" the Doctor ordered angrily. "They're only penguins, for Rassilon's sake!"

"I'm not a big fan of penguins," Hart said. "They remind me too much of tiny nuns. But actually, it's not the penguins I'm worried about, Doc. It's more the polar bear coming behind them!"

And sure enough, right at that moment, a huge white, shaggy form shuffled through the doorway towards them with a deafening roar.

* * *

Trying her best to bottle up her apprehension, Tejana made her way through the corridors to the Infirmary. It wasn't a particularly large part of the Academy, located well away from the dormitories and lecture halls and recreation areas that made up the majority of the buildings. It wasn't required all that often. Time Lords hardly ever got sick, and when they did, they tended to heal very quickly. However, Tejana could remember visiting it herself a few times, usually accompanying Damon, when he went to get patched up after whatever latest fight his hot-headedness had gotten him into.

The facility was made up of two sections. The first room was effectively a clinic, with a med-tech on full time duty. Most patients were able to be dealt with in this section, quickly and efficiently, with little fuss. This was the room she was familiar with.

However, beyond that was a ward, where the more serious cases were placed. Tejana had never been in there. As far as she knew, it was very rarely used. She suspected that it had never before been called upon to simultaneously house two such high-profile students as the son of the Lord President and the heir of Oakdown.

As she approached the entrance to the clinic, she rehearsed in her head what she would say to the med-tech on duty. Somehow she didn't think the chances of a Shabogan servant girl getting in to see Lord Koschei Oakdown without an argument were all that good, even if he had asked for her. Particularly since it was a bunch of Shabogan rough-necks that had put him in the hospital in the first place.

As it happened, she needn't have worried. The desk where the med-tech usually sat was unoccupied. Tejana walked quietly into the room. Voices were coming from one of the nearby examination cubicles.

"Will you please sit still, Lord Drax?" came an impatient female voice. "How can I possibly pull it out when you're wriggling around all over the place?"

"Ow, it hurts," moaned a familiar male voice. "Not to mention being incredibly embarrassing."

"Well, you won't get much sympathy from me! All this over such a silly thing! It was only a chicken, for heaven's sake."

"Tell that to Gomer," Drax retorted sarcastically. "No, on second thoughts, don't bother, because I tried that, and it didn't work! Ow, ow, ow! I'm not sure I'll ever be able to sit down again!"

The med-tech gave an unimpressed snort. "Oh, stop grizzling like a baby!"

"OUCH! You did that on purpose!" Drax howled indignantly.

As she crept silently past the curtained cubicle, Tejana couldn't help giving a small smile, despite the seriousness of her own mission. Whatever scrape Drax had tumbled into this time, it sounded like a real doozy. If she had wanted to, she could have stuck her head around the curtain and reassured him that, in time, he would definitely be able to sit down again. Well enough to command a bow-ship in the Time War, anyway. At this sobering thought, the smile on her face fell away, her eyes shadowed with the harrowing memory of his tragic death.

_Don't think about it, _she told herself as she slipped unseen into the ward beyond. _Just don't think about it._

The long room was still and quiet. Only two of the beds were occupied. The one nearest to the door was surrounded by a plethora of sophisticated monitoring equipment, softly beeping and whirring in the silence. Anzor lay against the pillows, his eyes closed, his face contorted in a frozen mask of fear and agony. He scarcely seemed to be breathing, his respiration so shallow that his chest hardly appeared to rise and fall.

Tejana's eyes slid over him with a shudder of revulsion, reliving the disgusting feeling of his aroused body crushing her into the floor. She wondered what terrifying nightmares he was experiencing inside his head. Anzor was one of the most twisted and evil individuals she had ever had the misfortune to come across. While she would never agree with the Master's ruthless and violent way of dealing with threats to her safety, she couldn't regret what he had done this time.

The second bed was some distance away, right at the end of the room. This patient wasn't much more than a lump under the bedclothes, his back to the rest of the ward. But Tejana didn't need to be told to know it had to be Koschei.

The only other person in the room was an attendant hovering near the side of Anzor's bed. Judging by her attire, she was not a med-tech, but merely one of the servants responsible for doing the menial chores around the Infirmary. She wore a serviceable woollen gown, identical to the one Tejana had on, except that hers was cream-coloured instead of black. She had obviously just finished changing Anzor's bed-linen, because she was in the process of folding up some sheets and thrusting them into a hamper.

As Tejana entered, she turned around. She was small and plump, with a mass of dark brown curly hair and a face that would have been pretty, if it wasn't for a scar that disfigured her right cheek. As soon as she caught sight of Tejana, she smiled, her face lighting up in welcome. "Kat!"

Tejana frowned, her body tensing in suspicion. She was sure she had never seen this girl before. "How do you know my name?"

The girl's expression became serious once more. "All the servants know your name," she said. "Especially those of us who were also victims of Lord Anzor."

_So much for staying under the radar, _Tejana sighed to herself. _I'm no better at it than the Doctor is._

"You were one of his victims?" she asked aloud.

"Yes. My name is Salome," the girl replied. Her hand went to her face, her fingers lightly tracing over the ugly, raised scar. "He did this to me. It was some kind of rare acid. The med-techs couldn't do anything. It never healed."

Tejana stared at her in pity, trying to imagine what it would be like to look in the mirror and to see such a gruesome reminder of Anzor every single day. "I'm so sorry," she murmured, not knowing what else to say.

"Don't be," Salome said, her eyes glittering with remembered pain. "No-one could stop him until you came. No-one could make him pay. But we've all heard of the Shabogan witch-women. We all know what you are and what you did. Now justice has been served and all the servants owe you a debt that can never be repaid."

"None of you owe me anything," Tejana answered, even though she knew by the expression on the other girl's face that she was wasting her breath trying to convince Salome she hadn't done anything to Anzor, just as she had been wasting her breath trying to convince Dyoni. She looked incredulously at the pile of soiled sheets in Salome's arms. "But surely, knowing you were one of his victims, they don't allow you in here to tend him?"

Salome gave her a smile that was both fierce and bitter. "This assignment is Fionnula's gift to me, her way of balancing the scales." Then, at the concerned look on Tejana's face, she quickly added, "Oh, don't worry – I would not risk your anger by adding to his punishment. He is safe enough from me. It's sufficient for me to come here every day and see him like this. I speak to him – I whisper in his ear. I tell him that he has no hope, that he will be like this, a drooling vegetable, for the rest of his miserable life. And I pray to all the gods that he hears me."

The hatred in her voice was so potent as to be almost tangible, coupled with a terrible, triumphant satisfaction. Hearing the aching bitterness, recognising it for what it was, Tejana suddenly felt as old as the Mountains of Solace and Solitude. She wished she had the words to make the girl understand that the only person she was harming by hanging on so tightly to her anguish was herself. But she knew from her own life that once you had experienced that sort of pain and loss, words were the one thing that could never help. She had been through the same thing, during the Time War, embracing the rage and hate and the desire for revenge, until it had all become an indelible part of her. The only way to win out over the darkness was to fight it yourself, in your own way, through to the very end. And sometimes, even then, even when you thought you'd finally won and put it all safely in the past, you'd find that you needed to start from the beginning and fight it all over again. Ultimately, it was a battle you needed to win or lose on your own. Nobody else could do it for you, no matter how much they wanted to.

Her eyes drifted to the still figure in the bed at the end of the ward, both her hearts contracting in anger and sorrow. She would give everything she had to take from Koschei Oakdown the pain and betrayal he was feeling right now. There was nothing she wanted more in the world than to win this battle for him, to spare him the centuries of rage and loneliness and insanity that were coming for him. But she couldn't do it, not without making everything worse. Not until - far, far in the future - she met him in the Matrix and learned to love the man behind the monster.

"I'm here to see Lord Koschei," she said softly to Salome. "How is he?"

"Physically, he's healing well," Salome replied. "He's young and strong, with a Time Lord physiology. The tissue rectifier has already repaired most of the serious damage. I'm guessing that, by Otherstide, there won't be a scratch on him."

The calm reply struck Tejana as odd. Salome didn't seem at all surprised to hear that a Shabogan servant girl had sneaked into the Infirmary to visit the injured heir of Oakdown, despite the significant breach in Gallifreyan social proprieties. Tejana couldn't help wondering uneasily just what sort of salacious gossip had been flying around the servant hall concerning her and Koschei and Theta.

"You said _physically_ he's healing well. What about...mentally?"

Salome averted her eyes and fiddled nervously with the hem of the sheet she was holding. "That's not for me to say."

Tejana reached out and caught her hand, stilling her fingers with her own. "Salome, please. Tell me."

The girl looked up, a troubled expression on her face, and Tejana nodded encouragingly.

"I...it's just...Lord Oakdown was here earlier, to see him."

"And?"

"And...he shouted at Lord Koschei...a _lot_. He said...some terrible things."

A cold feeling of apprehension trickled down the back of Tejana's neck. "And what did Lord Koschei do?"

"That's just it. He didn't do anything. He just stared at the wall, as if he couldn't even hear his father, as if Lord Oakdown wasn't even there," Salome replied. "It was a bit...creepy, really. And Lord Oakdown just got angrier and angrier, because Lord Koschei wouldn't answer him."

"What happened then?"

"Lord Oakdown started to hit Lord Koschei, only the med-tech stopped him. It was awful!" Salome explained, her eyes wide at the memory. "I thought for a moment Lord Oakdown was going to hit the med-tech too, but he stormed out in a fury instead. Lord Koschei didn't even move. Then Lord Theta came in and tried to get him to talk, but I don't think he had any success either and he left."

A lump rose in Tejana's throat as she visualised the terrible, one-sided confrontation. No wonder the Master never wanted to talk about his childhood. She had thought she understood, but the reality was so much worse than she ever could have imagined. "And now?"

"He's sleeping now, I think. Poor thing, it will probably do him good," Salome told her. "He's very handsome, isn't he?"

"Oh, yes," Tejana replied with a faint smile. She had never heard anyone refer to the Master as a 'poor thing' before, especially in such a sympathetic voice, but she supposed there was a first time for everything. "Oh yes, he certainly is. Thank you, Salome."

With that, she turned her back on the servant girl and walked the length of the room to the bed at the end. The distance seemed to stretch on and on for ever. She wasn't even quite sure why she had come, it was only asking for trouble – trouble she could ill afford. But he was in pain and he had asked for her, two things she could now never refuse when it came to the Master, no matter which incarnation of him it was.

She drew near to the side of his bed and looked down at him. Like Anzor, he was lying with his eyes closed. His handsome features were mottled with a horrifying array of half-healed cuts and contusions. It looked as though his nose and possibly his left cheek-bone had been broken and expertly re-set by the med-techs. They had begun to heal rapidly, but were still blackened and swollen. Her hearts turned over in compassion at the sight of him, hating to think what other injuries lay concealed under his blankets. Kelios and his friends had definitely been playing for keeps.

She knelt down beside the bed, her eyes trailing over his face in reluctant fascination. Beneath the bruises, he looked so young, so vulnerable – not much more than a boy, unmarked by time and hatred and hardship. So different to the hard, ruthless man who had ended up becoming her life-mate and the father of her child. Gently, she reached out and pulled the covers up and settled them more comfortably around his shoulders. He lay as still as a stone, without stirring in the slightest. She hesitated for a moment. Then, unable to resist the temptation, she stroked her fingers lovingly over his brow, smoothing the soft, tousled dark hair back from his forehead.

Suddenly, shockingly, with the speed of a striking snake, his hand flew up and fastened around her wrist in an iron grip. It was the same wrist Theta had twisted and bruised earlier and she gasped in surprise and pain. His eyes flicked open and glared up at her, glittering like dark sapphires.

"Such a tender touch!" he snarled. "I could almost believe that you mean it, Kat."

Tejana took a deep breath, trying to get her startled heart-rate back under control. "What makes you so sure that I don't?"

His eyes narrowed, fury blazing in the blue depths. "Because you're a Shabogan. An animal," he said coldly and cruelly. "And animals don't have feelings."

Even though she wasn't what he accused her of, hurt lanced through her at the deliberate malice in his expression. The grip on her wrist tightened even further, crushing her delicate bones, intentionally trying to cause her pain. Her immediate instinct was to struggle. But one of the very first things she had learnt about the Master, very early on in her life, was that panicked resistance only increased his pleasure, inciting him to even further acts of violence. So instead of fighting his grip, she raised her chin proudly and forced herself to remain still, refusing to give him the satisfaction of knowing he was hurting her.

"Now you sound like him," she said, flicking her eyes towards Anzor's bed. "Just before he tried to rape me, he told me that I was an animal and that was why he had the right to hurt me."

"Yeah? Well, maybe he had the right idea after all!"

Tejana met his gaze challengingly. "Is that what you truly believe, Lord Koschei?"

For a moment, he stared angrily back at her, their eyes locked in a silent, powerful confrontation. Then his fingers loosened, contemptuously allowing her hand to fall away, as if she was a toy he had grown tired of playing with. "No. I don't."

Stifling a deep hiss of relief, Tejana surreptitiously tried to massage some feeling back into her aching wrist. "Lord Theta told me you wanted to see me," she said, doing her best to keep her voice from trembling.

He gave a sharp, sarcastic bark of laughter. "Oh, I bet he did. And I bet he told you a few other things too, didn't he? About what happened in Low Town, for instance?" Moving abruptly, he propped himself up on one elbow so that their faces were level. "Then again," he sneered. "Maybe you already knew. Tell me about the Shabogan known as Kelios, Kat. And don't bother to pretend you don't know what I'm talking about."

"Kelios is...the son of Aminestra, the last descendant of the Pythia," she said hesitantly, unsure what he wanted from her.

"And?" he growled.

"And...he's also the bastard son of your father, Lord Oakdown. Which makes him your older half-brother."

His eyes were merciless, boring into her, demanding more. "And?"

"And..." she faltered. "And...I don't know what else you want me to say."

Again his hand shot out, this time tangling fiercely in her hair. "I want you to tell me what he is to you."

"To...me?" she gritted out. "He's _nothing_ to me."

"Oh, come _on_, Kat," he said bitterly. "Why don't you just _say_ it? Am I supposed to believe that you turned up here at the Academy and crossed my path by coincidence? You're good, sweetheart, but you're not_ that _good. Twice now, when I've been near you, I've blacked out and lost whole chunks of time. And you told me yourself about your lover back in Low Town. The reason you couldn't give yourself to me. A man who wasn't good and never would be, remember?"

"You think the man I'm promised to is your _half-brother_?" Tejana exclaimed incredulously. "You think I'm part of some sort of trap he's laid for you?"

His bruised face twisted in contempt. "Aren't you? Your hair, your lips, your body...everything about you, designed to make me want you. You're the ultimate trap and he knew it when he sent you here. The only question is, what you're trying to achieve. Are you merely a spy or does he have some other plan for you?"

"He doesn't have any plan for me because he doesn't know anything about me! He had nothing to do with me coming here!" Tejana snapped, her eyes flashing furiously. "And let me tell you, Koschei Oakdown, that bastard is one of the last people in the Universe I would _ever_ promise myself to!"

"Then who _are _you promised to?" Koschei demanded. "If you're telling the truth, if it's not Kelios, then tell me his name!"

"I can't!"

His hand yanked savagely at her hair, nearly pulling it out by the roots. "_Tell me his name!_"

Tejana nearly screamed in pain, stars dancing before her eyes. Her scalp felt like it was on fire. It had been a long time since the Master had hurt her like this, not since the Year That Never Was, when he had back-handed her into the ground. All at once she was reminded all too clearly just how dangerous he could be.

"_TELL ME!_"

"Harold Saxon!" she spat, recalling a similar fury written across his face, back on board the _Valiant, _the day he had hit her. _He's not a good man and never will be._ "His name is Harold Saxon!"

The hand in her hair eased as he considered her response. "Harold Saxon?" he repeated. "What the hell kind of name is that? It doesn't even sound Gallifreyan."

Taking advantage of his inattention, she pulled back out of his reach, furious tears stinging her eyes. "It's the name of the man I'm promised to." _One of them, anyway. _"You asked me and I told you. Not that you have any right to know. But it's the truth, just like it's the truth that I have never had anything to do with Kelios, son of Aminestra." Shakily, she got to her feet. "And now, I'm leaving. I came here because I thought you needed me. Obviously I was wrong. All you want is a punching bag to take your problems out on. And that's one thing I'll never be."

With that, she turned angrily to leave, her head held high.

"Wait!" he said tightly. "Kat...I'm sorry. Don't go."

Against her better judgement, she paused. Caught by the pain in his voice, she looked back at him, wary of his talent for manipulation and determined not to fall for any of his tricks. "Why should I stay? So you can hurt me again? Or maybe call me some more disgusting names?"

"No, because you were right. I do need you. Please."

There was a strange, almost empty look on his face. But his eyes burned so intensely that it was uncomfortable to see. Slowly, reluctantly, Tejana retraced her steps until she stood back beside the bed. He didn't try to touch her again. Instead, his gaze rested on her face almost hungrily.

"When I blacked out in the ballroom...were we doing what I think we were doing?"

Tejana flushed, the hot colour flooding her cheeks. He might not remember what had happened, but she did, every last heated, erotic detail. "Yes."

"And was it good between us?"

Her colour deepened still further. But she stubbornly refused to drop her eyes. "Yes, it was good."

"I can't believe I missed the whole thing." He smiled mirthlessly. "I wanted you the first time I saw you, you know, that night in the Refectory. You walked towards our table and all I could think about was how good it would feel to throw you down beneath me, and to take you, hot and hard, and to hell with everybody else in the room. But I told myself I could never have you. Do you know why?"

She shook her head. "No."

"Because of who I am," he snarled. "The heir of Oakdown." His tone dripped sarcasm and pain. "I couldn't possibly shame my House...my _father_...by consorting with a lowlife Shabogan, no matter how beautiful you were. Do you even understand how ironic that was, Kat? _Do you?_"

Tejana's eyes brimmed with tears. She sat down on the side of the bed and took his clenched hand in hers, tracing her fingers over the scabbed and bruised knuckles. "Koschei..."

He didn't even seem to notice. He was far too immersed in his own world of hurt and betrayal. "All those years, ever since I was a child, all he ever talked about was _duty_. How the honour of the family was everything. How I had to try harder, be the best, to uphold the honour of the House of Oakdown. Nothing I've ever done has been good enough for him, no matter how hard I tried. There's never been any love, never any affection or pride in what I achieved, just complaint after complaint, punishment after punishment. And all that time...all that time he was breaking every single one of his own rules, him and his Shabogan whore and his bastard son!"

All at once, he began to laugh, a strange, cracked, bitter laughter, complete devoid of amusement. "Oh, it's funny! Don't you think so, Kat? So...very...goddamn..._funny_!"

And then she realised he wasn't laughing at all, but crying – terrible, dry, rasping sobs that ripped through him, tearing him apart from the inside out.

Her resolve to keep her distance shattered into a million pieces. He was so young and this was only the beginning - he had so much yet to go through, so much yet to suffer. Unable to bear the sound of his grief, she climbed up on to the bed beside him and took him into her arms, holding him as tightly as she could, both her hearts aching for him. His first reaction was to resist, stiffening his body against her, trying to push her away. But she didn't let go. Instead, she held him even more closely, cradling his head against her shoulder and stroking his dark hair. Little by little, he relaxed against her, wrapping his arms around her and accepting her comfort, still crying as she rocked him back and forth and shushed him like a child.

Gradually, as the long minutes passed, the devastating sobs that wracked his body eased, and all she could hear was the uneven, traumatised sound of his breathing.

And then, at last he spoke, his voice harsh and venomous, words that sent a prophetic shiver up her spine.

"I swear to you, Kat, on my own life, that hypocritical son-of-a-bitch will _never_ tell me what to do again! From now on, Koschei Oakdown will be his _own_ master!"

* * *

_**Another Author's Note: **_

_**And there it is, Koschei Oakdown's first step in becoming the Master. **__**Next chapter should cover the Otherstide Ball, if all goes to plan.  
**_

_**I'd like to take this opportunity to wish everybody a merry Christmas and a happy and safe New Year. XOXO  
**_


	21. Chapter 21

**_Author's Note: _**

**_Hey-ho, Christmas Day is over, the Doctor Who Christmas Special is past, now it's time for a bit of a relax and a catch-up! I hope everyone had a very enjoyable festive season :)_  
**

**_Thanks very much to all those who reviewed since the last chapter was posted, you all made my Christmas a very happy place to be - GuesssWho, Aietradaea (x4), TheDoctorsMistress, MayFairy, gallifrey calls now, MountainLord-92, EmmaMarie, Beautifulspace (x 4), silentnight, irishartemis, doctordiva23, SawManiac211, TheWickedHeart, EDZEL2, Geraldine, Celestial Valkyrie, Ahsilaa, sailormajinmoon, KlinicallyInsaneKoschei, mericat (x 2), Lilyrose, Push to Shove, Rosalina, Theta'sWorstNightmare and Lost Moon.  
_**

**_Ok, it's 11:30pm here and I'm dying to fall into bed, so that's all my 'thankyous' for now - just know that I think you're all amazing._**

**_And I apologise, but despite what I said at the end of the last chapter, I didn't quite get to the Otherstide Ball in this one, so please don't hate me - next time, I promise ;)_**

* * *

**- CHAPTER TWENTY ONE -**

-/-

"_**Where has the starlight gone?**_

_**Dark is the day.**_

_**How can I find my way home?**_

_**Home is an empty dream,**_

_**Lost to the night.**_

_**Father, I feel so alone..."**_

_**-/-  
**_

_**"You promised you'd be there,**_

_**Whenever I needed you.**_

_**Whenever I call your name,**_

_**You're not anywhere.**_

_**I'm trying to hold on,**_

_**Just waiting to hear your voice.**_

_**One word, just a word will do,**_

_**To end this nightmare..."**_

_**-/-  
**_

_-** "Endless Night", ****The Lion King**_

* * *

Theta Sigma leant against the wall in the corridor outside the Infirmary and waited, knowing that Kat would have to emerge sooner or later. He had to admit, given the filthy mood Koschei had been in when he last saw him, he fully expected it to be sooner. However, as the minutes passed by, slowly multiplying into an hour and then carrying on ticking, he began to realise that, surprisingly enough, it was actually going to be later.

_What the hell is she doing in there? _he asked himself, scuffing his heels against the wall in frustration._ And why, out of all the people on Gallifrey, did Koschei even ask for her in the first place?_

He was starting to think that the unanswered questions about the tiny Shabogan servant girl were going to drive him crazy. He'd never been able to bear an unsolved puzzle – it was one of the things that constantly got him into trouble. And despite the terrible events of the ill-fated trip to Low Town, this particular mystery was further from being solved than ever. All he seemed to have done was to somehow involve Koschei in the tangled mess.

Every now and then, a detachment of Chancellery Guard would march past, resplendent in their scarlet uniforms, every stylised step perfectly synchronised. Theta assumed they had been detailed to safeguard the Lord President's son, to prevent any further attempts on Anzor's life. However, none of the patrols bothered to look at Theta, let alone question him, even though he was loitering suspiciously outside the Infirmary door. And Kat seemed to have gained instant access to the hospital with no difficulty at all. Theta wondered if the Castellan had actually thought of posting a guard inside the Infirmary. Probably not – that would have made too much sense. Everything on Gallifrey moved so slowly. Nothing had changed for centuries. And the Guard had most likely not had to deal with a real threat in all that time. They were very skilled at parading around and looking impressive, but aside from that, he suspected they wouldn't be able to find their own asses with both hands _and _a map. Unless someone started jumping up and down in front of them, yelling out, "Hello! Look at me! I'm a threat!", Theta doubted they would ever make an arrest. And whoever this "ghost" was who had attacked Anzor behind his triple-deadlocked door, he was much too clever for that. If he had wanted Anzor dead, the other boy would already _be_ dead, that much was clear. There had to be some other motivation at work.

Theta didn't really care one way or the other about the investigation into what had happened to Anzor. It had nothing to do with him, and Anzor had deserved everything he got. It didn't bother him if the perpetrator ever got caught. However, just to pass the time, he began to imagine all the things he would do differently to track down the attacker if he were Castellan. By the time the small, copper-haired figure he was waiting for finally exited the Infirmary door, the list was quite a long one.

He watched her tilt her head back and take in a long, shuddering breath with her eyes closed, as if she was trying to steady herself. Her face was pale and tear-stained and tight with some sort of turbulent, barely-controlled emotion.

"Kat!" he exclaimed.

She must have been deeply lost in her own thoughts, because she jumped at the harsh sound of his voice, her green eyes snapping open, liquid and startled.

"Lord Theta."

He strode towards her and took her by the arm. She didn't try to resist, merely looking up at him, a resigned expression on her face.

"Well? Did you see him?"

"Yes," she said. "I saw him. I stayed with him until he fell asleep."

"How was he?"

She shook her head. "How do you think? He's just found out his whole life has been a lie. It's something he's _never_ going to get over."

Theta stared down at her, his eyes narrowed. Her tone was flat and completely certain. It wasn't as if she was guessing or making an assumption about Koschei's future. It was as if she _knew_, beyond a shadow of a doubt, and it was killing her inside.

It was said on Gallifrey that the Shabogan witch-women, the female line descended from the ancient Pythia, still had the gift of precognition and could see the future as clearly as most other people remembered the past. Theta had always considered that to be a fairytale, like the fantastical stories children told of the Reapers or the Toclafane. The students of the Academy were taught to believe in science and technology, not in witches or mystical mumbo-jumbo. But just then, looking down into the vibrant, elfin face of the girl beside him, and hearing her speak so passionately and definitely about the life of his best friend, a high-born Time Lord she should hardly even know, still less understand so well, he had to wonder if maybe there was some truth in the old tales after all.

Not only that, now that he was paying such close attention to everything about her, the scent of her skin registered with him for the first time. His perception of it had been there all along, every time he had held her, floating like a mist in the back of his mind, but until now he hadn't actually been properly conscious of it. Breathing in, he realised she smelled like a warm summer night. He struggled to put a specific name to the fragrance, and after a few moments it finally came to him. It was honeysuckle – she smelled exactly like honeysuckle on the evening breeze.

Every Time Lord had a unique scent, he was accustomed to that. It was one of the things that helped them identify each other after the physical changes of regeneration. But he had never heard anything before about the Shabogans sharing the same trait. And it was strange, because he was sure he had smelled that particular scent before, only not with her, with someone else.

He thought hard, pushing himself to remember, somehow knowing it was important. The scent he recalled had been similar and yet quite different. More restrained, more ladylike. Not as sweet, not as wild, not as untamed. The subtle but distinct difference between the perfume of a cultivated hothouse flower and the scent of a beautiful bloom found growing freely and naturally in the woods. It wasn't something he had smelt often, he was sure, so it wasn't someone he knew well. Just once or twice, just enough to tease the edges of his memory.

_Where had it been? Where had he smelled that fragrance before?_

And as he concentrated, a face rose up in his mind, a face which went with the smell, and he stiffened in shock.

_Melanakaturadilena of the House of Firestone. _The woman he had reluctantly promised to marry, against every one of his own inclinations. A woman he hardly knew well enough to greet in the street. And yet, just from the few times he had met her, he would swear that her skin smelled similar enough to Kat's that they could have been sisters.

His agile brain seized on the thought and processed it rapidly. Was _that_ the secret to Kat's strangeness? Could it be that one of Melana's male relatives had taken a leaf from Lord Oakdown's book and had also taken to wading in the Shabogan gene pool? Was Kat, like the bastard Kelios, nothing more than a half-breed; part witch-woman, part Time Lord?

But that didn't make sense either. Kat had spoken to him of her father several times, indicating that the man was still very much alive. Whereas all of Melana's male relatives, including her father, were supposedly dead, thereby leaving her House without masculine protection or guidance. That was one of the reasons her family, particularly her mother, were so keen for her to marry early, even into a House of such limited political prominence as the House of Lungbarrow. The situation had always reminded him of that old Earth saying he had discovered in his extra-curricular reading – _'beggars can't be choosers'. _No, it could only be a coincidence that the scent of Kat's skin reminded him so much of his unwanted wife-to-be. A strange coincidence, to be sure, but a coincidence nonetheless.

Something of his rapidly-churning thoughts must have shown on his face, for at that moment she shifted uneasily and broke away from him.

"I have to go, Lord Theta. There are Time Lord floors that need scrubbing, Time Lord beds that need making and Time Lord meals that need preparing," she told him sullenly, starting to walk back up the passageway towards the main Academy buildings.

Her delivery of the line was perfect, resentment and discontent at her station in life evident in every nuance of her tone, just as he would have expected from a truculent Shabogan servant. Nonetheless, something about the words coming from her lips struck him as false and contradictory.

"Kat!" he called sharply.

She paused and turned back towards him, her expression wary. "What?"

"When I was in Low Town this morning, I noticed a sculpture in the main square. It was quite large, I couldn't miss it. Why don't you tell me what it was?"

She scowled defensively, her arms crossed. "Why would I need to do that? You were there, my Lord, you saw it. You must know yourself what it was."

He stepped closer to her. "Oh, yes, _I_ know well enough what it was," he said. "But what I'm wondering is whether _you_ do. After all, you're a native of Low Town, right? You grew up there. There's no way you wouldn't know something as prominent as the sculpture in the main square. So why don't you tell me what it is?"

She didn't reply, but she didn't need to. She had no idea what he was talking about. The ignorance was in her eyes, the haughty green depths flaring with barely-restrained temper.

"You can't, can you?" he said. "You can't, because whoever..._whatever_...you are, you've never set foot in Low Town in your life. Just for future reference, the sculpture is a very realistic representation of a Time Lord standing on a Shabogan worker's back, hands on hips, arrogantly grinding him into the dirt. The message was _very _clear, one which every Shabogan in Low Town would not only know, but would probably agree with, from what I saw. But you're no more a Shabogan than I am, are you, Kat?"

"I don't have time for this!" she snapped, turning away again. "I told you, I have work to do!"

Anger flared in his veins at her impenetrable stubbornness. Determined to pin her down, he swivelled around, deftly blocking her path so she couldn't get past. "The trip to Low Town was_ my idea_. What happened to Koschei, my best friend, was _my fault_. Don't you think I deserve some answers? Some sort of explanation?"

She drew herself up to her full, tiny height and glared at him. "Why? I told you about the crack, but I didn't ask you to concern yourself with my personal business! And it wasn't your fault, so you needn't go on thinking it was! It had to happen that way. If it hadn't, Kelios would have made sure Koschei found out some other way, that's just the sort of creep he is. In the long run, the result would always have been the same. Some things you just can't change."

"And what about you? Was any of it real?" he demanded. "That whole sob-story about your father? About your baby? Or was that all a pack of lies to win my trust?"

"It was _all_ real, every last bit of it. Everything I told you!" Her eyes glistened with pain and hostility as she faced him down, not giving an inch. "I never said I was a Shabogan. I never said I came from Low Town. You just assumed that all on your own."

"Then, for the last time, tell me, Kat – _who are you_?"

She opened her mouth to reply. But right then, a frantic 'dinging' noise began to echo from his pocket, cutting across the moment, and she froze. Cursing, Theta scrabbled around inside his tunic, searching for the rhondium sensor, torn by conflicting emotions. On the one hand, he was furious at the interruption. But on the other, he was intrigued to see what new information the device had to offer. Pulling it out, he realised the red warning light was flashing on and off.

Kat's eyes widened at the sight of the small contraption. "A timey-wimey detector!" she breathed in delight. "You've managed to build one! Oh, Theta, that's brilliant! It's just what we need to detect when the next crack is about to appear!" She stretched her hand out to him. "May I see it, please?"

He held it out of her reach, astonishment surging through him. "You_ know _what a timey-wimey detector is? But Drax only just invented it."

Her gaze met his and, all at once, it was as though a mask had fallen away, and he could see her clearly at last. The gentle, vulnerable, bewildered servant girl he had tried so hard to protect had disappeared. In her place was a woman with hard, alert eyes who knew exactly what she was doing and could look after herself.

"Yes, I know about it. My father taught me to make one when I was five years old. Listen to me, Theta. There's no point me pretending any more. You're right, I don't belong here. But I can't tell you any more about who or what I am, not without irretrievably damaging the casual nexus. All that you need to know is that I'm a traveller and that, right now, I'm very, very lost. And all I want to do is to find my way back where I came from. I'm asking you for your help."

"A traveller?" he echoed, staring at her as if he had never seen her before, trying to wrap his mind around the implications of what she was telling him. She came from somewhere else...somewhere out there, in the vast realms of time and space, somewhere far beyond the stifling confines of Gallifrey.

_A traveller... _He caught his breath, both his hearts leaping in excitement and longing at the thought. The one thing he had always dreamed of becoming, to fulfil his greatest desire, to see the stars._ Where had she come from, this tiny alien girl? What worlds had she visited? What incredible wonders had those bright green eyes seen? _His brain teemed with eager questions he knew she couldn't – or wouldn't – answer. And at the same time, there came the stark realisation of the appalling danger she was in. "Outsiders aren't allowed on Gallifrey. If the Time Lords find out you're here..."

"I know."

"How did you even get here? The transduction barrier..."

"I fell through the crack – the same crack I told you about, in the servant's passageway," she said. "It's not easy to explain, but I think there's been some sort of terrible temporal explosion in the future and now a network of interconnected cracks are reaching backwards through time. If they get big enough, there's a real possibility they may erase the entire space-time continuum. I need to get back there, to try to stop it happening."

Theta frowned. "And how are you planning to do that?"

Her expression was bleak. "By jumping back into another crack."

"Are you insane?" he exclaimed incredulously, unable to believe his ears. "Even if all the cracks are connected, like you say, you have no idea where you'll end up. And that's only if you don't get wiped out of existence by the Time-fire first!"

"I have a...friend. He has the ability to negotiate his way through the cracks, once he's inside. I'm hoping to persuade him to come with me, to guide me safely back home."

"And if he won't? If he won't take the risk?"

"If he won't..." She hesitated, sadness filling her face. There was loss there, Theta could see it, terrible, haunting loss. She looked so young, but in that moment, he knew she wasn't at all, and he wondered how he hadn't seen it before. "If he won't, then whatever happens will happen. But, either way, I can't stay here. I've already caused too much damage and nothing good can ever come of it. Seeing Koschei just now proved that to me. So, for better or for worse, jumping into that crack is the only thing left for me to do." She held her hand out to him once again. "So, please, Theta, I'm begging you...let me have the rhondium sensor."

Slowly, reluctantly, he placed Drax's invention in the centre of her palm. She closed her fingers gratefully around it. "Thank you."

Immediately, she began to disassemble the device, deftly disconnecting and tweaking some of the wiring.

"Hang on a minute! What are you doing?" Theta protested. "Drax and I spent hours building that!"

"You forgot to align the quantum sensors," she responded in a curt, preoccupied voice as she continued to work. "This way, we can use the contrasting data streams to triangulate the exact position and timing of the next crack."

As soon as she said it, he realised how logical her solution was. "That's brilliant! Why didn't we think of that?"

"I learned from the best." She glanced up and gave him a faint smile. "I hope I'll never stop learning from him."

"Your father?"

"Yes, my father. Who, for all his faults, will always be the most wonderful, amazing man in the the entire Universe...at least to me."

Despite everything he had discovered about her, the inexplicable tenderness he had felt towards her from the beginning swept over him again. The emotion in her face was so strong, he couldn't stop himself from reaching out to her and brushing his fingers across her cheek. "I wish I could meet him. Then maybe I could tell him that he has a wonderful, amazing, and very brave daughter."

She gave a small, choked, ironic laugh, which sounded a bit like an amused hiccup. "Who knows, Theta Sigma? Maybe one day, you will."

The rhondium sensor gave another quiet 'ding' and they both looked down at the readings.

"Well?" Theta asked.

"According to this, the crack will manifest in the Adytum."

"The Adytum?"

She grimaced in distaste. "It's an ancient crypt, dating back to the Old Times, located directly below the Records Room. Not the nicest of places."

"You sound like you've been there before."

"I have," she answered briefly, with no further explanation. Theta sighed inwardly, doing his best to contain his curiosity. It was apparent she intended to maintain her veil of secrecy, no matter how hard he pressed her.

"Have you been able to determine when it's due?"

She nodded, her eyes fixed on the scrolling data. "Tomorrow, in the evening."

"Tomorrow? But that's Otherstide."

Unexpectedly, she started to laugh - a musical, silvery sound. "And the crack is due at midnight. Oh, that's funny! I'll have to make sure I leave the Ball by the time the clock strikes twelve, before everything turns back into a pumpkin. How very appropriate!"

Theta wrinkled his brow in confusion, not getting the joke. "A pumpkin? What's a pumpkin?" He'd never even heard the word before.

"Never mind, it doesn't matter," she responded, the laughter draining from her face, to be replaced by extreme weariness. "The point is, I need to be in the Adytum when that crack opens. It's my only chance."

"You will be, I promise," he assured her. "And I'll be there with you. It'll be all right, Kat, I know it will."

"You know, when you say it like that, I almost believe you," she said wistfully.

"Trust me!" he winked. "I'm Theta Sigma!"

To his surprise, she began to laugh again. "That catch phrase needs a bit of work!" she giggled. "But never mind, I know you'll get there eventually!"

She closed her hand around the gently-vibrating rhondium sensor, before slipping it deep into the pocket of her dress. "And now, I really do have to go, because if Fionnula catches me being late, I won't live long enough to see Otherstide. But, if you don't mind, I'll hang on to the timey-wimey detector for now." She rose up on tiptoe and kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you, Theta...for more than you'll ever know. I'll see you later."

Moving away from him, she began to hurry up the corridor, leaving him staring after her.

"Kat!" he said urgently, unable to resist calling her back one last time.

She glanced over her shoulder at him. "Yes?"

"Don't use the timey-wimey detector anywhere near chickens."

Her face lit up in a mischievous grin. "'Cos it's not pretty when they blow!" she responded. "Yeah, I know."

And, with that, she disappeared up the corridor and was gone.

* * *

The polar bear growled savagely as it towered over the small group of people, its eyes fixed hungrily on them, drool slavering from its mouth.

Little Amelia screamed in terror. Amy grabbed her by the shoulders and stood protectively in front of her. "Doctor!" she yelled. "That thing thinks we're lunch!"

The Doctor looked around frantically, trying to see a way out. But there wasn't one. They were trapped. Even if there was somewhere to run, the bear was too fast – it would catch them before they'd even gone five steps.

Hart didn't hesitate, training his sonic blaster on the rearing monster. A blaze of blue light cut through the dim air, striking the bear squarely on the chest. The creature roared in agony, before falling back down on to all fours. Enraged by the pain, it still kept coming, loping towards them, its massive head thrashing back and forth as it gnashed its teeth, determined to reach them. Again, Hart fired, and again, until at last, too injured to stand, the bear crashed heavily into the floor.

For a few moments, there was nothing but silence. The bear's paws twitched helplessly and then it lay still.

"Is it dead?" Amy asked in a low voice, still holding Amelia behind her.

Cautiously, the Doctor approached the fallen animal, one slow step at a time, while Hart kept his gun aimed at it, in case it tried to attack again. However, it remained completely motionless, its wide open eyes already glazing over.

"Yes, it's dead," the Doctor replied bitterly, stroking his hand across the soft, white fur on the bear's head. He had seen too many things die in his time to ever enjoy seeing it happen, especially to a poor, dumb animal that never stood a chance. "That tends to happen when you shoot something often enough."

He glared at Hart, who merely shrugged. "It was him or us, Doc. What did you want me to do?"

"You could have stunned it!"

"The stun function takes twice as much energy," Hart said practically. "The batteries are already low. I couldn't afford to waste the juice."

"Will it stay dead now?" little Amelia asked, staring at the animal's bulky corpse. "Because it didn't before."

The Doctor frowned in puzzlement. Turning around to her, he knelt down, so that his head was on her level and he could look into her face. "What do you mean, _before_, Amelia?"

"It was in there," she said, pointing towards the doors to the long gallery, the direction the bear had come from. "So were the penguins. But they were all dead. I even knocked one over and it didn't move."

"Are you trying to tell me these animals were exhibits in the museum?"

She nodded emphatically. "Aunt Sharon always said there was nothing to be scared of in a museum, because everything was already dead. But now they're all coming alive again. How can that happen?"

"That, Amelia Pond, is a very good question!" the Doctor said, just as a low, rabid snarl vibrated from the shadows and something dark leapt out at him.

A heavy weight smashed violently into him and he tumbled backwards, his hands automatically coming up to hold the thing away from his throat. He could hear Hart shouting "Doc!", followed by a confused impression of pale amber animal eyes; brownish-grey fur; strong, snapping jaws and foul, fetid breath. Again, the sonic blaster whined, and he felt his hairy assailant collapse limply on top of him, almost crushing his ribcage.

Then Hart's face appeared above him and the huge, hairy body that was pinning him down was pulled away and tossed unceremoniously aside. Reaching down, Hart seized him by the shirt-front and hauled him upright.

"Wolf," he gasped, wheezing as he tried to drag some air into his lungs. "_Canis lupus_. North American timber wolf."

Yellow eyes blinked at them through the gloom, accompanied by a chorus of low, vicious snarling. In the distance, there was a spine-chilling howl. Automatically, the Doctor and Hart began to back away, retreating towards the spot where Amy and Amelia stood together.

"There are more of them," Hart said. "They're all around us. We need to use the vortex manipulators to get out of here!"

"And go where?" the Doctor snapped. "Isn't anyone listening to me today? The Universe is collapsing and we're running out of time!"

"So, what then? We just sit here and get eaten by a bunch of mangy dogs? I can pick them off one at a time, but if they rush us, we're done for!"

"Just keep moving," the Doctor said, taking Amy and Amelia each by the hand and pulling them rapidly backwards towards a display alcove behind the Pandorica. "Come along, Ponds!"

Swearing under his breath, Hart covered their retreat, periodically firing searing blasts of blue light into the darkness. In the dim light, it was difficult to see what, if anything, he hit. However, going by the subsequent howls behind them, the Doctor assumed that he was making each shot count.

"What exactly are we doing?" Amy demanded, as the three of them ended up huddled together in the middle of a tableau representing North Africa. The Doctor's elbow jostled a mannequin wearing a flowing djellaba and a red, tasselled fez, accidentally knocking the fez to the ground. Leaning down, he picked it up, wondering if there had been any animals in the North African display and, if so, what they were and, more importantly, where they were now.

"Running into a dead end," he replied shortly. "Where I'll have a brilliant plan that basically involves not being in one."

Plonking the fez on to his own head, he searched through his pockets and pulled out his sonic screwdriver.

"What good's that going to do?" Amy asked. "It's not a weapon."

"Not in the traditional sense, no. But if I can adjust the frequency to the right setting..."

As he spoke, a shrill, ululating noise screamed through the air, radiating in increasing volume from the screwdriver. Amy and Amelia clapped their hands over their ears in pain and, at the entrance to the alcove, Hart yelled in protest.

"Oops, sorry, that wasn't it!" the Doctor muttered, rapidly changing the combination of controls.

This time there was no discernible sound. But almost immediately, there was a deafening chorus of yelps, followed by a burst of agonised howling, which gradually faded into the depths of the silent museum.

"They're running away!" Hart reported triumphantly, turning back towards them.

"Canine ears are very susceptible to high-pitched noises, well beyond human – or even Time Lord – hearing," the Doctor said. "It was just a matter of finding a ultrasonic sound level on the screwdriver that was painful enough to make them run."

Hart nodded. "Nice trick, Doc. Just in time, too – the blaster energy is down to residual levels. Maybe you're not such a waste of space after all. But it won't keep them away for long. If they're hungry enough, they'll be back."

"But how can this even be happening?" Amy asked. "Stuffed animals don't just come back to life, it's impossible!"

The Doctor moved up to the alcove entrance beside Hart and stared out at the enormous grey cube, his brain racing.

"It's the Pandorica," he said. "That's got to be it. The light inside is actually a restoration field, intended to prevent the prisoners held inside it ever dying. It causes localised temporal reversal, restoring both people and objects to their natural state. Somehow, when the Pandorica was opened, the light must have fallen on all these animals and brought them back to life."

"Yeah, 'somehow' is about right," Hart replied sceptically. "If the kid's telling the truth, they were all part of displays in the next room. So unless your restoration field can peep around corners, how the hell did it reach them?"

The Doctor didn't appear to be listening. His attention was riveted firmly on something leaning against the side of the Pandorica. A big, square, flat something. Walking over to it, he picked it up, grunting a little at the weight, and turned it over. A silvered surface glimmered back at him in the dim light, revealing the indistinct outline of his own face. "A mirror."

Hart gave him an irritated look. "So?"

"So, if you look carefully, you'll notice there's another one over by the doorway," the Doctor said, pointing out a second square shape, leaning against the far wall. "Somebody used them to reflect the light from the open doors of the Pandorica, to channel it where they wanted it to go. Somebody who knew exactly what it would do."

Sudden horrified understanding dawned in Hart's face. "Which means..."

Together, the two men swung around to stare at Amy and Amelia, both of whom gazed back at them calmly and blankly, their eyes empty and unconcerned, as if they had no comprehension of what was going on.

"Oh shit!" Hart exclaimed.

Then they were both running, side by side, around to the front of the Pandorica. Hart was already activating the controls on his wrist-strap, sending the circular locks spinning, whirring and clanking as they disengaged. Once again, a sliver of bright light spilled into the room. Immediately, the Doctor used his screwdriver to stop the doors sliding completely open, preventing the restoration field enveloping the corpses of any of the creatures Hart had shot. On top of everything else, the last thing they needed were the dead wolves coming back to life again.

Blinking against the glaring illumination, they peered through the gap inside the box. Two empty chairs sat there, their restraints dangling uselessly.

"Just as I thought. He's gone!" the Doctor said grimly.

At that moment, there was a wave of static and the PA system stuttered into life. A burst of very familiar laughter echoed manically around the room. "Are you having fun yet, Doctor? Because I am. Oh, but don't worry, I won't let you get bored. The best is yet to come."

More taunting laughter poured forth and then the speakers clicked off.

The Doctor spun around to the two girls. "Amelia, what else was in that room?"

"I..." the child stammered. "I don't know. I can't remember."

"This is very important, Amelia. I need you to think hard!"

She scowled, her little face a picture of concentration. "Well...there were those robot things. I didn't like them. They scared me."

The Doctor froze. "_What_ robot things?"

She raised a trembling hand and pointed behind him. "Those ones."

Slowly, deliberately, he turned, knowing from the cold feeling in the pit of his stomach precisely what he was going to see.

Three Daleks glided effortlessly through the doorway, their eyestalks swivelling back and forth, their weapons rising aggressively.

"EX-TER-MIN-ATE! EX-TER-MIN-ATE!"

* * *

_**Another Author's Note: If anyone is wondering about Tejana's earlier visit to the Adytum on Gallifrey, it's a reference to Chapter 9 of "A Deadly Assassin".**_


	22. Chapter 22

**_Author's Note: _**

**_Hooray, back with another update at last. I've got the middle-of-fic blues again, as usual, which has been slowing me up a bit, and this chapter was a PITA to write anyway._  
**

**_Thanks to the following terrific people for their reviews: gallifrey calls now, SawManiac211, Push to Shove, Beautifulina, doctordiva23, MayFairy, EDZEL2, sailormajinmoon, EmmaMarie, Celestial Valkyrie, Geraldine, MountainLord-92, Theta'sWorstNightmare, GuesssWho, Lost Moon, Aietradaea, BeautifulSpace (x 3), Imorgen (x 2), TheWickedHeart, Vincenth and silentnight.  
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**_To a writer, reviews are a very precious gift, so bless you all for giving them to me XXX  
_**

**_To BeautifulSpace/Rosalina: Thank you both very much for your continued support, much appreciated. This chapter is a little longer, so hopefully you will enjoy.  
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**_To doctordiva23: I'm so glad you are following along and enjoying it - I would have sent you a PM to say thanks personally, but that function is disabled on your profile. So I will say it here instead - thank you :)  
_**

**_To Geraldine: Thanks again, it's terrific you're finding it exciting! Hopefully I can keep it up X)  
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**_To Lost Moon: Aw, you're making me blush. Happy New Year to you too! XXX  
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**_To silentnight: Yup, Theta is getting very close to figuring Kat out, he's very brainy, our young Doctor. As for River, she is still stuck in the TARDIS, as per the canon episode. However, you can rest assured that they will rescue her very shortly :) Thanks for the review \0/  
_**

**_And lastly, massive thanks to CookieCakeMonster, who drew me some more lovely fan art for this series, which was a total buzz. The link is on my profile page, go check it out!  
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**_Here's the chapter - fingers crossed that someone out there likes it :S  
_**

* * *

**- CHAPTER TWENTY TWO - **

"_I close my eyes, then I drift away,  
Into the magic night, I softly say,  
A silent prayer like dreamers do,  
Then I fall asleep to dream my dreams of you._

_In dreams I walk with you,_  
_In dreams I talk to you,_  
_In dreams you're mine, all of the time,_  
_We're together in dreams, in dreams..._

_But just before the dawn,_  
_I awake and find you gone,_  
_I can't help it, I can't help it, if I cry_  
_I remember that you said goodbye..."_

**- Roy Orbison, ****In Dreams**

* * *

As Tejana had predicted, apart from a short time out to take Lord Borusa his afternoon tea, she spent the rest of the day scrubbing the floor of the Academy ballroom until the dark onyx shone like a mirror. However, when it came down to it, she much preferred the hard manual labour to the nerve-racking experience of fronting up to Borusa's study.

Fortunately, the senior Time Lord had hardly even glanced up from his work when she placed the tray on his desk, his attention remaining fixed on the various data tablets spread out in front of him. Even so, given her recent nerve-wracking encounter with Theta, just being so close to him had Tejana's pulse rate climbing in anxiety.

Much to her dismay, it hadn't taken Theta long at all to work out that she was an outsider here. Fortunately, at this point in his time-stream, centuries before the upheaval and change of the Time War, the idea of a Time Lord actually daring to break the Fourth Law of Time was completely unthinkable to her naïve young father. Which was the only reason the truth of who and what she really was hadn't immediately occurred to him, despite all the damning clues he'd uncovered.

But Borusa had never been naïve. She was more than aware of the danger presented by his sharp intelligence, and she had little confidence that her cover story would hold up if he really became suspicious.

All the same, she wished she had been able to sneak a look at whatever it was he was so engrossed in. Chances were, it had something to do with the temporal explosion and the cracks, and the more information she could discover on that subject, the better she would feel. Was the temporal instability really caused by an exploding TARDIS back in her timeline? And if so, was the Doctor safe? And, with her and the Master trapped here on Gallifrey, what had happened to their own TARDIS, and to John Hart? The list of crucial things she didn't know seemed to be growing all the time. But she was unable to think of any excuse to linger without being obvious about it, so she was forced to leave Borusa's study none the wiser.

When she returned to the ballroom, some of the maintenance staff had carefully lowered the enormous chandeliers down to floor level. After reporting to Fionnula, Tejana was put to work with a team of other maids, polishing each individual crystal, even though, from what she could see, they hardly needed it. The chandeliers were already perfectly immaculate. Despite her stern resolution to keep out of trouble, Tejana felt a slow burn of anger rising inside her. She had nothing better to do while awaiting the arrival of the crack, but the utter waste of her time still chafed at her unbearably. The entire exercise was so completely pointless. Who amongst the dancers at the Otherstide Ball would ever bother to look up at the chandeliers anyway? She knew she never had, whenever she danced here, not even once.

_So typical of the Time Lords, _she thought viciously, rubbing away at one of the thousands of glittering prisms with more force than was strictly necessary. _So concerned about making sure_ _everything is all shiny and bright on the outside, without ever troubling themselves about the rotten core within._

But, deep inside, she knew it wasn't really the ridiculous cleaning task that was bothering her. That was nothing more than an excuse to turn her simmering pain into anger, the only way she knew to vent her tightly-coiled emotions. Staring down at the brilliant reflective surface of the crystal, she fancied for a moment she could see again the look on young Koschei's tortured face as he began to finally understand the depth of his father's hypocrisy. Fury and sorrow made her want to smash the crystal into a million pieces on the onyx floor. For here it was again, the paradox she always felt when it came to Gallifrey. She had always been so proud of being a Time Lord, her ancient and glorious birthright - and yet, of the Time Lords themselves, she could never be proud.

When she thought of Lord Oakdown, outwardly playing the self-righteous Kitriarch of one of the most noble and respected Houses on Gallifrey, yet all the while living a secret life of lust and debauchery, systematically twisting and warping the lives of both his sons; when she thought of Lord President Drall, wilfully turning a blind eye to the sadistic perversions of his heir, using his position to cover up Anzor's crimes rather than prevent them; when she thought of Borusa, her childhood mentor, all those abilities, all those incredible talents, and every one of them directed not towards the good of others, but solely towards his own power-hungry self advancement, so full of greed that even being Lord President of the most advanced and ancient people in the Universe hadn't been enough for him; and, of course, when she thought of Rassilon, the so-called father of his people, willing to sacrifice the entire Universe to war and chaos and, in the end, obliteration, just to ensure his own continued existence; when she considered all of these, what else was there to feel but shame? It was at times like this, she realised that she didn't regret the Doctor's use of _the Moment._ She grieved for her childhood home and what it could have been – perhaps even for what it once was, in the glory days long before she was born – but for the reality of what Gallifrey had become at the end, for the slow descent into corruption that had begun centuries before the advent of the Time War, she grieved not at all.

Then the image within the crystal seemed to change and she saw Theta's face instead, overlaid with the boyish features of the eleventh Doctor. A lump rose in her throat, knowing that, in spite of everything, no matter how much they argued, no matter how difficult their relationship became, there was one Time Lord she would always be proud of.

_Stay safe, my father, _she thought, closing her fist firmly around the prism, as if to protect it and the imagined face smiling within. _Please stay safe._

* * *

"_GET BACK!" _the Doctor roared.

Amy, who was all too familiar with the threat of the Daleks, had already seized Amelia and was running back towards the dubious safety of the North African alcove. Without hesitating, the Doctor grabbed Hart and dragged him behind the Pandorica, just as the lead Dalek loosed a searing blast of laser fire that ricochetted off the grey box in a shower of blazing sparks.

"What the hell are you doing, Doc?" Hart growled angrily.

The Doctor had his back to him, hunkering down and peering out around the wall. "Those are Daleks!"

"Yeah, I figured that much out for myself." Hart rolled his eyes in impatience. "Your daughter told me all about them. Mutated humanoids encased in an armoured shell – ruthless, single-minded and completely beyond reason. I got it. Now, let me past so that I can go kill them before they kill us!"

"Only they're not just any Daleks! They're Alpha Class Attack Daleks, survivors of the Time War. And believe me, your little _pop gun_...," - here, the Time Lord gestured contemptuously at Hart's blaster pistol - "...isn't going to be enough to stop even one of them, let alone three."

Even as he spoke, another salvo of laser fire struck the Pandorica, just above their heads, making them both jump backwards.

"EX-TER-MIN-ATE!" the three Daleks repeated in unison, their monotonal voices echoing stridently throughout the room as they began to approach their target.

Hart hissed through his teeth. "I've said it before, and I'll say it again. If it has a physical body, it can be killed. So, if you're such an expert, Doc, tell me what their weakness is, because they have to have one! And you'd better make it quick. I've only got a couple of shots left in this thing."

"Wea-pons sys-tems re-stor-ing!" the lead Dalek announced.

"Re-stor-ing!" the other two agreed. "Con-firmed."

"They're still low on power!" the Doctor realised, his hearts surging with sudden hope. "Maybe we have a chance, at least to incapacitate them long enough to get past them. But they're still too far away - you'd need to let them get close enough to take a direct hit on the eye-stalk."

But Hart apparently had no intention of waiting. "Direct hit coming up!" he said.

And before the Doctor could stop him, he leaped recklessly out into the open, his blaster pistol held ready.

"Hey, ugly!" he yelled. "Over here!"

The lead Dalek's eyestalk swung around towards him, its weapon already beginning to rise. If the lethal cyborg had been at full strength, the Doctor had no doubt that Hart would have instantly been a dead man. However, its movements were still sluggish and uncertain and it was much too slow. A blast of iridescent blue light erupted from the ex-Time Agent's sonic blaster, travelling the entire length of the room in the blink of an eye, smashing with unerring accuracy into the Dalek's optical sensor.

"Ass-ist! Ass-ist!" it screamed, spinning around on the spot. "Pow-er fail-ing! Ass-ist!"

The other two Daleks fired at Hart, but their shots lacked power, and he had already dived back to safety beside the Doctor. Abruptly, the lead Dalek stopped whirling and its eyestalk dropped.

"Ass-iiiiiissssst..." it said again, in a drunken voice that trailed away into silence. The sentient light in its optical sensor winked out, together with the luminosity dischargers on the top of its dome-like head.

"Bull's-eye!" Hart grinned, checking the energy levels in his blaster, his back hard up against the wall of the Pandorica. "Go on, admit it, Doc. Impressive, right?"

"Maybe you're not such a waste of space after all," the Doctor said dryly, echoing Hart's earlier mocking words to him. "But don't get too cocky, Captain. You haven't killed it. It's only temporarily disabled."

"Yeah? How can you tell?"

The Doctor risked a peek around the corner of the Pandorica, watching the other two Daleks glide cautiously past their incapacitated colleague and start to advance towards them through the gloom.

"Trust me, I'm the Doctor," he said, using his habitual catch phrase without even thinking.

Hart's eyebrows rose in derision. "Wow. Very patronising! Does that ever actually work for you?"

The Doctor's head snapped huffily back around towards him. "All the time, as it happens!" he retorted.

"Yeah, right," Hart said, his tone layered with sarcasm. "If you say so." He quirked his thumb towards his blaster pistol. "OK, I've got one shot left. One shot, two Daleks. Not good odds, even for me. And we're running out of time. They'll be on top of us in a minute. Any bright ideas?"

As if to confirm his words, one of the approaching Daleks barked, "You will sur-ren-der! You will o-bey the Da-leks, or you will be ex-ter-min-ated!"

The Doctor got out his sonic screwdriver and twirled it between his fingers. "Fine, we'll have to improvise. You take one out, while I try to come up with something to stop the other one."

Hart grinned again, his white teeth gleaming in the dim light. "No, Doc," he said solemnly. "Try not. Do...or do not. There is no try."

With that, he disappeared around the back of the Pandorica to the other side, presumably to ambush the Daleks from a different angle.

The Doctor shot an indignant look over his shoulder to where Amy and Amelia were anxiously hovering in the opening to the alcove. "Did he just quote 'The Empire Strikes Back' at me?"

Both the girls nodded.

"Ye-p!" Amy said, popping the 'p' with ironic emphasis.

The Doctor returned his attention to the settings on his sonic screwdriver, an affronted scowl on his face. "'Do or do not'! Huh! Cheeky sod!" he muttered crossly. "This is meant to be the 'D-Team'! _I'm _supposed to say the funny lines!"

* * *

Tejana had so many of her own problems clamouring for her attention that at first she hardly noticed the subdued atmosphere of the servant's dining hall. She sat in her seat, toying absently with her food, not even noticing what was going on around her as she wrestled with the biggest problem of all. Tonight, she was going to have to tell the Master of her decision to jump back into the crack and to try to persuade him to guide her back to the Doctor. Considering all the effort he had made to bring her here, to save both her life and that of their son, she knew that she was facing a colossal, if not completely impossible, task. Imagining exactly how angry he was going to be caused her to lose what little that remained of her appetite.

However, as immersed as she was in her own thoughts, little by little she became aware how quiet the meal was. Dyoni sat beside her, eating mechanically, with none of her usual bright chatter. Glancing around, Tejana saw that the other servants all appeared equally morose.

Before she could whisper to Dyoni to find out what was going on, Fionnula rose to her feet at the head of the table and called for their attention. Usually, it took some time for everyone to settle down enough to listen to her announcements. But today, all the servants just stopped what they were doing immediately, as if they already knew what she was going to say.

Fionnula cleared her throat, as though she was preparing to say something distasteful. "For those who haven't heard, today is a sad day for the servants of the Academy. One of our longest serving stewards, Antoni, was told this afternoon by Cardinal Lenardi that his services were no longer required."

A general, bitter murmuring spread throughout the hall.

"So what?" Tejana asked Dyoni out of the side of her mouth, surprised at all the angry faces.

"He's an old man!" Dyoni hissed back. "He's worked here nearly all his life, he's got nothing else. Every atom of his being was wrapped up in his service to the Time Lords. And then Lenardi just dismisses him like a piece of garbage, all because he put a few things back in the wrong place when he was straightening his room. He said Antoni was old and useless and needed to be replaced. They've sent him back to his village, dismissing him without a pension or any kind of thanks for his decades of loyal service – the disgrace of it will probably kill him!"

Tejana's gaze returned to Fionnula in shock. She had never been taught by Cardinal Lenardi, but she remembered him well. He had always been autocratic and imperious, acting as if he was better than any other Time Lord that had ever been born. The students in her class had delighted in taking him off behind his back, mocking the way he always walked with his nose in the air. But for him to be so callous and indifferent towards an old man...the anger at the arrogance of her own people flared inside her again, burning like hot lava that could no longer be contained.

"Settle down, please!" Fionnula ordered, raising her voice to be heard over the discontented rumblings. "We must take this as a lesson and a warning, to maintain our standards, to prevent this happening to any of the rest of us. The Time Lords demand perfection and will not accept anything less."

"Why do you put up with it?"

The question rang out clearly in the hall and suddenly everyone else was deathly silent. Every eye in the place fixed on Tejana as she rose to her feet, her face pale with anger.

Fionnula was so startled at the interruption, her jaw nearly hit the table. "Excuse me?"

"I _said_, why do you put up with it? Why do you let them push you around like this?" Tejana repeated passionately. "You're not animals, you're people, just as much as they are!"

"_Sit down_, Kat!" Fionnula commanded in a scandalised voice. "You are new here, and unfamiliar with our ways, so I will overlook this outrage, just this once..."

But Tejana stood firm and unmoving. Everything she had once hated about her home planet came flooding back to her, all the hurt and all the pain, all the disgusting things that had hidden under the Time Lord veneer of respectability, and this time she'd had enough.

"Please, Kat, do as she says!" Dyoni whispered urgently, tugging at her arm. "You can't criticise the Time Lords. You're only going to get yourself into terrible trouble!"

"No, I won't sit down!" Tejana retorted, her overflowing rage projecting her voice to every corner of the room. "Do you know, in Low Town, in the main square, there's a sculpture depicting a Time Lord standing on a worker's back, grinding him into the dirt? But it's not just the Shabogans, it's all of you, all the plebeian classes. You're the ones that keep Gallifrey running. The Time Lords couldn't do it without you. But you just keep on letting them treat you like dirt, because you won't stand together and tell them no!" She looked around at all the gaping, astonished faces that surrounded her. "Lord Anzor tried to rape and kill me," she continued, loudly and clearly, saying the words that no-one else had ever dared to state in public before. "He destroyed Salome's face. He drove Minya mad. And the stars alone know how many others he injured and maimed. But still you suffered in silence and did nothing. How many more Anzors do there need to be before you start to fight back? How many more Lenardis, picking on the old and the weak among you? How long do you intend to live in fear?"

"That's ENOUGH!" Fionnula screamed, her face red and flustered.

"No, it's not enough. It will never be enough until something changes!" Tejana shot back. "When I first came here, Dyoni told me you were servants, not slaves. Well, that was wrong – because from what I can see, slaves are _exactly_ what you are, every last one of you!"

With that, she turned on her heel and marched from the room, her back stiff with contempt. Behind her, she heard the silence break, the hall erupting into a tidal wave of noise, as a hundred voices began babbling at once, despite Fionnula's desperate attempts to quiet them.

* * *

By the time Tejana reached the quiet sanctuary of the bedroom she shared with Dyoni, she had begun to calm down a little bit. Given everything that had happened since she arrived on Stonehenge, it had only been a matter of time until her fraying temper snapped. Sitting on the edge of her bed, she put her head in her hands and breathed deeply, praying she hadn't done too much damage with her impulsive outburst. Everything she had said was true, but that didn't change the fact that she should never have said it. Somehow, it seemed like another omen, confirming to her that she had made the right decision to leave Gallifrey. Whatever the Master might think, all the doors of possibility were closing...and she had to go back, no matter the risk.

_The Master...where was he?_

She raised her head and glanced around the room. She still couldn't sense him nearby, but both her hearts told her that he wasn't too far away.

"Koschei?" she said softly. "Koschei, are you there? I need to speak to you."

Only silence answered her. Undeterred, she changed hurriedly into her nightgown and climbed on to the bed, determined to get this over with before Dyoni returned to the room. Or, even worse, before an irate Fionnula came looking for her.

"Koschei, I'm going to sleep now. Please, I need you to dream-share with me. We have to talk, it's important!"

Lying back on the pillow, she closed her eyes and tried to relax, willing herself into sleep.

* * *

When she opened her eyes again, she was standing in a completely different place. It was a small, round building, made of beautifully-weathered grey stone. The walls were only waist high, not much more than a stone balustrade, topped with gracefully arched open window embrasures, decorated with intricately-carved scrollwork. The floor was formed from polished white marble, with a stunning mosaic of a golden oak tree inlaid in the centre.

The building was obviously located high in the mountains, in a terraced garden at the head of a rocky valley, because the view from the windows was utterly breathtaking. Tall, craggy peaks rose all around, crowned with drifting cloud, white and fluffy against the burnt-orange sky. Acres of silver-leaved forest swept down the sides of the mountain into the narrow valley, shining in the sunlight. Far below, Tejana could see an elegant manor house, facing out over a glittering lake, surrounded by gently sloping fields of red grass, waving in the summer breeze. The air was warm, and filled with the scents of trees and flowers.

As she gazed out over this magnificent vista, entranced, a tiny creature with brilliant, jewelled wings flitted in and settled on one of the stone window sills, its long antennae twitching slightly. It was a flutterwing. Reminded of Maerl, Tejana couldn't help giving it a smile. "So," she said softly, reaching out a finger towards it. "Which of the three hundred and twenty seven varieties are you, gorgeous?"

Her sleeve swished silkily as she moved, and the flutterwing flew away. Surprised, Tejana looked down at herself, realising for the first time that she was no longer dressed in the cotton nightdress she had gone to bed in.

She was wearing a cream-coloured watered silk chemise that clung lovingly to her small,slender figure like a second skin. It had long, draped sleeves and a low, scooping neckline that revealed an uncomfortable amount of cleavage. Over this was a sleeveless kirtle of heavily embroidered brocade, jade in colour and edged in gold, which laced tightly under her small breasts and flowed gracefully away behind her in a short train that would brush the floor as she walked.

As she looked more closely, she realised that the designs embroidered across the kirtle were actually tiny, exquisitely-sewn golden oak trees. Not too hard to guess who was controlling this dream, then. Even her clothes marked her as belonging to him. _Her own personal Dream Lord_. Her hearts skipped a beat in anticipation, knowing it wouldn't be too long before he put in an appearance.

In the meantime, she twirled around, watching the lovely skirt bell out around her. It had been a very, _very_ long long time since she had been required to wear formal Gallifreyan clothing. Even then, apart from the gowns she had worn to the Otherstide Ball, it had only been the heavy, shapeless Prydonian robes the Academy had deemed appropriate for formal occasions. She had never had to wear anything like _this_.

Her long, gleaming hair had been twisted and twined into a series of intricate braids, before being elegantly coiled around her head in an elaborate style which, in real life, would already be giving her a headache.

She patted at it ruefully. "Even a woman's hair isn't allowed to be free and unconfined on Gallifrey_,_"she told herself, still speaking out loud. "I'm guessing Koschei isn't going to like it like this, though."

"I don't know about that," he said suddenly from behind her, making her jump. "All the more fun undoing it all."

A shiver traced its way up her spine. His voice was a low, velvety drawl, almost a purr, the way it always was just before they had sex. She turned around and saw him standing in the doorway, leaning on one of the carved pillars, his arms folded. Her eyes widened. She was accustomed to seeing this particular incarnation of the Master in a suit and, of course, in his more recent casual attire of jeans and a hoodie. But she had never before seen him in traditional Gallifreyan clothing. He was wearing a black velvet doublet over a white, open-necked linen shirt, with soft black trousers and leather boots. Like his younger self, his garments were edged in gold, embroidered with the oak tree that was the symbol of his House. The sun shone down on his platinum hair, making it gleam like a halo.

The breath caught in Tejana's throat as he walked towards her. He wasn't merely handsome – that seemed like much too tame a word. He was..._beautiful_...sinfully beautiful, like a fallen angel, his eyes full of dark temptation.

"You make me sound like a gift you intend to unwrap," she said huskily, as he drew nearer to her.

Even as she spoke the words, she could hear the Doctor's voice echoing in the back of her mind: "_You've taken away all my other choices in this, Tejana, but I won't formally hand you over to him, like some sort of gift-wrapped present. I'll never give him that satisfaction." _She stiffened unhappily at the memory, not wanting to imagine the danger her father could be in.

Leaning close, the Master kissed the line of her throat, his lips barely brushing her sensitive skin.

"Not a gift," he corrected, as if he knew exactly where her thoughts had wandered. "The word 'gift' implies that you don't yet belong to me. And we both know that isn't true, don't we, Ana?"

She closed her eyes, trying to muster her self-control, trying to ignore what he was doing to her.

_Somehow, she had to keep her mind clear, so that she could talk to him sensibly. Somehow, she had to tell him that, despite all his arguments, despite the risk to her life and their child's, she was going back. And, most difficult of all, somehow, she had to convince him to help._

"However...speaking of gifts..." he continued teasingly, taking her hand and raising it to his lips in an oddly formal caress. "Happy Otherstide, sweetheart!"

Her eyes sprang open again; a small, surprised smile lighting her face as she looked up at him.

"Wow, it's so long since I heard somebody say that!" she exclaimed wonderingly.

Actually, she couldn't believe how very good it felt. Ever since the Time War, the Doctor had chosen to adopt human customs instead of Gallifreyan, celebrating Christmas instead of Otherstide, birthdays instead of namedays. In the beginning, she had thought it was because he was travelling with Rose and that he had adapted his ways to suit his human companion. But now she wondered if it was really because, after the destruction of Gallifrey, he couldn't bear to be reminded of the festivals of his own people.

Savouring the nostalgic burst of pleasure, she threw her arms impulsively around the Master's neck and went up on tiptoe to kiss him on the lips. "Happy Otherstide to you, Koschei!"

One of his hands slipped to her waist, pulling her hard against him, while the other one cradled the back of her head, holding her motionless as his mouth took hers as deeply and completely as he could, his tongue hot and tantalising against hers, arousing her as only he knew how. With a gasp, feeling her control slipping away, she stepped backwards, pulling away from him before she could lose herself in the raging river of sensation. He didn't try to restrain her in any way, but simply smiled, his eyes dark with possessive amusement at her reaction.

Tejana eyed him warily, all her instincts warning her he hadn't simply brought her here in response to her request to talk. There was something else going on here, she could feel it. He had something on his mind, some kind of hidden agenda. For some reason, he was playing with her, like a cat plays with a mouse, and she didn't like it. Not one bit.

"I have something for you," he said.

A golden chain suddenly caught her gaze, glittering and spinning in the sunlight as it dangled from his hand. Before she could say anything, he reached out and fastened it quickly around her neck, his fingers deft and agile, the metal falling cold against her skin. Looking down, she saw that a heavy gold pendant now hung against her low-cut bodice, fashioned in the form of a stylised oak tree, similar in shape to those already decorating her dress and the hem of his doublet.

"Thank you," she whispered, a little bit taken aback. She had never been in the habit of wearing jewellery, especially something as ornate and valuable as this. "It's...beautiful."

His fingers sensuously traced the line of the golden necklace at her throat, following where it led, all the way down to where the elegant pendant nestled between her breasts.

"You're my wife, Ana. It's time you wore the symbol of my House."

Her eyes met his, guilt rising inside her at what she knew she had to tell him, guessing he would see it as another betrayal. "But...I don't have anything for you."

His hand drifted lower, settling on the still-flat plane of her stomach. She could feel the warmth of his touch through the thin silk of her chemise, stroking across her skin. His whiskey-coloured gaze was intent and serious. "You're carrying my son. There's no greater gift than that."

Understanding of his motive slowly dawned on her. This dress, this necklace...they did not belong to Tejana of the House of Lungbarrow, free wanderer among the stars. They were the trappings of Lady Oakdown, chateleine of a great Gallifreyan estate, wife to the Lord President, mother of his child. This entire scene was intentional, orchestrated down to the very last detail. He was showing her what he expected her to become, doing his best to sway her to his way of thinking, using every potent tool at his command to manipulate her emotions. Which only confirmed to her what she had already suspected – whatever he was planning, it would happen soon, unless she could manage to talk him out of it.

She jerked back from him, purposely putting some distance between them.

"This is your dreamscape, isn't it?" she asked, crossing to one of the window embrasures and staring out over the beautiful valley. "You created it for me, the same way you created one for Anzor, right?"

"After a fashion, yeah," he agreed. "With a few, rather significant differences, of course. The one Anzor is currently enjoying isn't quite as...relaxing...as this one. I'm master here. I can change it any way I choose."

With that, he snapped his fingers and they were standing on the shale-covered, volcanic slopes of the planet Sarn. The Master was wearing the same black, close-fitting suit with the long coat-tails he had worn back in the Fifth Doctor's day. It looked very strange and out of place on the smaller, more compact body of his current incarnation. Tejana looked down and saw that she was wearing the denim cut-off shorts and black tank top she had worn long ago, back when she and her father and Turlough and Peri had clashed with the Master on Sarn, the outfit obviously drawn from his memories. A hot wind was blowing and the eye-watering stink of sulphur hung heavily in the air. Tejana could feel the heat from the rocks beneath her feet, penetrating the thin soles of her gym shoes. She couldn't help shivering – Sarn had always been a horribly bleak place, but the Master's dream version of it was even more unpleasant than she remembered.

He snapped his fingers again and they were suddenly standing in a large, circular stadium, amongst an enormous crowd, all of whom were screaming their lungs out, creating a seething atmosphere of complete hysteria. Down below, on a stage at the centre of the stadium, Tejana could see four figures, three holding guitars, one playing the drums, all of them gamely trying to sing into old-fashioned microphones, battling against the incredible background noise. Overwhelmed by the absolute pandemonium, Tejana glanced at her life-mate and couldn't help giving an unexpected peal of delighted laughter. The Master was wearing a green paisley shirt with cream-coloured flares and platform shoes, while she had on an impossibly short micro-dress, patterned with orange and purple polka-dots, which clashed horribly with her dark-copper hair.

"Earth, 1965!" he shouted gleefully in her ear, as the distant strains of "Can't Buy Me Love" drifted towards them. "Shea Stadium, New York – probably the greatest Beatles concert ever!"

A ripple of surprise skimmed through her mind. For the Master to reproduce this so clearly for his dreamscape, and in such great detail, he must have actually attended this concert. She'd had no idea that he was a Beatles fan. But before she could say anything, he was already snapping his fingers again.

This time she was lying on her back on a bed with black satin sheets and she wasn't wearing a stitch of clothing, her bright copper hair spread beneath her naked body like a puddle of blood. With a flash of panic, she recognised the state room in which she had been imprisoned during "The Year That Never Was, That Never Was", when the Master had used the power of the Rift to return them through time to the Valiant. He was kneeling above her, also naked, his eyes dark with desire. Then he was kissing her again, purposefully this time, crushing her into the mattress, no hint of playfulness or teasing left in him. Despite her best intentions, she could feel the heat rising between them as she kissed him back. Hot, twisting tension burnt through her, his mouth hard and unrelenting on hers, her body already knowing exactly how it would be if she let him continue, already craving it...

_...____the shattering lust, __need need needneedneed, oh please, please; sweat and skin and want, the neverending, forever-want; tongues lapping, the bite of teeth and then nothing in her world but him and the building, blinding, cresting pleasure..._

_SNAP!_

It took her a few seconds to understand that the sound she had heard had been him clicking his fingers again. Slowly, disoriented and dazed, panting slightly, she opened her eyes to see they were back in the circular stone building on Gallifrey, standing facing each other, fully-clothed once more, their bodies not even touching.

"Any way I choose," he repeated calmly, stroking his fingers lightly down her cheek, and this time, she understood that the words held an underlying threat. The mercurial changes in environment had been meant to unsettle her. He had been giving her proof that, in this strange dreamworld, hidden between tangible realities, he was the one with all the control. Like Anzor, as long as she was asleep, she was completely at his mercy. If he wanted to, he could keep her trapped here forever, making sure she never woke up.

She raised her chin defiantly, her eyes blazing as her quick temper ignited. This 'carrot and stick' approach was just so typical of him. He couldn't for one second actually consider talking an issue through, oh no. It had to be his way or no way at all. Well, he could throw his empty, bombastic threats around as much as he liked, but he was wasting his time. As dangerous as he was, she wasn't afraid of him, not for her own sake. Whatever the Doctor might think, she didn't believe the Master would ever harm her or their child.

"So what did you _choose_ for Anzor?" she asked icily.

"Shada," he replied, his voice hard and clipped.

She flinched, the very word making her feel sick inside. Amongst her people, Shada had been a place of legend, the most terrible of all the Time Lord prison planets. They said it was the closest thing to hell the Universe had ever known. Only the most dreaded criminals had been sent there. Tejana's stomach churned as she thought of the tortured expression on Anzor's sleeping face. After encountering the monsters of Shada, she doubted the Lord President's son would ever be able to function normally again, even if the Master was merciful enough to eventually release him.

"_Shada_?" she faltered, hating even to speak the name. "What do you know of Shada, Koschei?"

His lips pulled back from his teeth in a mirthless grin. "The Time Lords sent me there once," he replied. "Didn't the Doctor ever tell you? It was centuries ago. You would have only been a child."

Shock and revulsion gripped her at the thought of him being subjected to the abyssal horrors of the infamous prison planet. But she knew she shouldn't be surprised. The Time Lords had sent their most dreaded criminals there – and, thanks to Rassilon, he had always been the most dreaded of them all. "No, he never told me. What happened?"

Shadows shifted behind his eyes; old, black nightmares stirring. "It didn't suit me. So I left."

Tejana stared at him, stunned by the blunt, matter-of-fact statement. He had left. In other words, he had escaped...from _Shada_. But _nobody_ escaped from Shada! The compulsion to ask him all about it was nearly overwhelming, but something in his curt tone warned her not to. He was usually so ready to brag about all the things he had done. If he didn't want to talk about Shada, how bad must it have been – both for him then, and for Anzor now?

"And this place?" she asked, returning the conversation to the present. "Where are we?"

He came to stand beside her at the window. "It's a summerhouse, on the Oakdown lands on Mount Perdition."

She nodded. She had already guessed that the elegant estate below belonged to his family.

"Why did you bring me here, specifically?"

For the first time, he seemed a bit uncertain. "I'm...not sure. You said you wanted to talk. This place...I used to play here all the time when I was a child." He ran his hand gently down one of the carved stone pillars, his eyes distant and clouded with recollection. "It was one of the few safe places."

"Safe places?" she queried softly.

His jaw tensed, his face like stone. "Places where _he_ never came."

At the haunted expression in his brown eyes, Tejana felt her anger draining away. Instead, she found herself holding her breath, not wanting to speak, in case she shattered his confiding mood. This was the first time he had ever even come close to telling her anything specific about his childhood. Usually, he acted as if everything that had happened in his life before he became the Master was inconsequential and not worth remembering. She had a sudden image of a tiny, dark-haired boy hiding out here, lonely and afraid, doing his best to avoid his father's constant criticism and blinding rages, and her hearts contracted in sympathy. She had always felt the loss of her own father as she was growing up – but perhaps it was better to have no father at all than one like Lord Marnal Oakdown.

"The House of Lungbarrow was just over that peak there," he added, pointing towards a nearby mountain. "Nearly an hour's walk through the pass. Theta came exploring one day, when we were both about six, and found me here." A small, reminiscent smile tugged at his lips, as if he was seeing it all unfold again in his mind's eye. "I beat him up, that first day, for trespassing on Oakdown land. But he wouldn't give up on me, just kept on coming back. He was always stubborn as hell. Bit by bit, we became friends. We used to spend hours here together, reading, talking, dreaming, playing all sorts of fantastic games..."

His voice trailed away and his face hardened. She could literally see him shutting down again, locking away all that happened back then, taking refuge behind his usual impregnable walls.

"I was there, in the Infirmary, this afternoon," he said, changing the subject unexpectedly. "I saw you comforting my younger self."

Tejana didn't answer. His tone was silky, dangerous, and she wasn't sure where he was going with this conversational curveball. She had a sneaking suspicion it wasn't anywhere good. Surely he wasn't about to start getting jealous of his younger self? As weird as that sounded, she wouldn't put it past him. Was she supposed to feel guilty for her actions; was that what all these theatrics were about?

"The thing is, I can't remember you being there," he continued. "All I can remember is crying alone in that damn hospital bed. Now that it's happened, now that history has changed, my memory should have changed as well. And it's not just that. I still can't remember _ever_ coming across a Shabogan servant girl named Kat back in my Academy days." He reached out and caressed her tightly-braided hair. "Now I wonder why that is, Ana?"

She tensed under his hand, suddenly realising what all his game-playing had been leading up to. She didn't need to tell him about her decision to jump into the crack. He already knew. And, as she had expected, he was furious.

"I think you know why," she replied in a low voice. "Because you weren't just in the Infirmary, were you, Koschei? You followed me outside into the corridor as well. You heard my entire conversation with Theta. So you already know what I've come to tell you - that I've decided to jump back into the next crack. Which will, of course, erase me from this timeline, meaning that no-one, including your younger self, will remember that Kat the Shabogan servant girl ever existed here."

"There are some advantages to being a ghost," he said. "And being able to listen unseen is definitely one of them. So, yeah, I know what you're planning. And I know that you want me to help you do it. But it's not going to happen, Ana."

"Koschei, the Universe is crumbling! The stars are going out! Whatever happened back in our time, whatever the Chaos-Master did, it's wiping out everything!" she cried. "Even if we did stay here, how long do you think Gallifrey will be immune? The temporal safeguards built into the transduction barrier will protect us for a while, maybe even several years, but in the end, Gallifrey will fall too. We're no safer here than we were back in our own time! We have to try to stop it happening!"

"No!" he shouted, his anger showing clearly now. "If we go back, we're both dead and so is our son! The Doctor's back there – he's the big hero, the big saviour, let him repair the Universe, he's done it often enough before!"

"And what if he can't?"

"It doesn't matter, either way. Once my father is dead and I control Gallifrey, I will fix it from here, by changing the past. With the power of the Matrix at my command, I will manipulate history in the real Universe just as easily as I manipulate the environment in this dreamworld. The Time War will never happen, the Cruciform will never be built and the Chaos-Master will never exist."

"By doing that, you'll change and destroy the lives of billions of people, right across the cosmos!" Tejana argued. "Don't you see? You won't be able to help yourself. In the end, you'll be no better than the Time War itself!"

"But you and my son will be safe, with me, here on Gallifrey," he said shortly. "And that's all I care about. The _only_ thing I've cared about for a very, very long time. The rest of the Universe can go to hell, as far as I'm concerned."

She shook her head, frightened by the single-minded purpose burning in his eyes. "I love you and I love our son. But it's too high a price to pay, Koschei."

"That's for me to decide!" he snarled. "You're my wife, Ana, and you will do as I say."

"Or what? You'll keep me here, like Anzor? Will you send me to Shada too?"

His gaze was unrelenting. "If I have to, to keep you safe until I've put my plan into place!"

Slowly, steadily, she began to back away from him, heading for the doorway he had entered the summer-house by earlier. "I don't believe that. If you care for me the way you say you do, I don't believe you would do that to me."

"Keep away from that door, Ana!" he ordered harshly. "I'm the Master, you know what I'm capable of. Don't even think about defying me, or I'll make you very sorry!"

She kept on walking, not taking her eyes off his face for a second. "I'm going out that door, Koschei. Then I'm going to wake up. And at midnight tomorrow, I'm going to jump into that crack. I'm afraid – so terribly, terribly afraid of what will happen – and I don't want to go alone. But if I have to, I will."

"And if I do let you go, if by some miracle you make it back to the Doctor without my help, what exactly do you expect to do?" he said in a voice of iron. "What the hell can you do to change anything?"

The doorway was close now. She could feel a cool breeze blowing across the back of her neck. She had no idea what waited on the other side – the freedom of the waking world or a prison somewhere else in his land of dreams._ Faith_, she told herself desperately, forcing back the crippling apprehension that curled up her spine. _I have to have faith. I know he won't hurt me. He loves me. I know he'll let me go._

"I can do what I've always done," she said aloud. "I can fight for what I believe in."

"What, the integrity of the Universe?" he sneered. "You really are Daddy's little girl, aren't you?"

"Actually," she responded quietly. "I was talking about you and our son."

And with that, she turned and stepped through the doorway.

* * *

With a sharp jolt, Tejana sat upright, her breath rasping painfully in and out of her throat, her double heartbeat pounding in her chest. For a few terrifying seconds, she wasn't quite sure where she was. Then the familiar surroundings began to seep past her panic into her consciousness and she recognised the servant's bedroom she shared with Dyoni. She was sitting up in her own narrow bed, wearing the nightdress she had donned before going to sleep.

"I'm awake," she whispered in deep relief, knowing instinctively that she was no longer in the dreamworld. "Oh, thank the gods, I'm awake."

Gradually, her breathing started to slow. She looked down at her hands and saw that they were trembling. For the first time, she allowed herself to acknowledge just how frightened she had been that the Master wouldn't allow her to leave his shadowy realm.

Willing herself to calm down, she lay back on the pillow. And in that moment, she realised two, very disturbing things.

Firstly, around her neck there hung a heavy gold pendant shaped like an oak tree, as real and as corporeal as she was.

And secondly, on the pillow beside her, lay what was left of Theta's timey-wimey detector, smashed into smithereens.

* * *

_**An Author's Apology: **_

_**OK, so I was wrong about reaching the Otherstide Ball in this one. you can blame the Master and Tejana, they sort of took over this chapter with their little chat, and by then it was far too long to write any more. I would say that we will reach the Ball in the next chapter, but you probably won't believe me anyway, so I think I'll just shut up and go hide somewhere.**_


	23. Chapter 23

_**Author's Note:**_

_**Good afternoon! Thanks very much to the following people for encouraging me with their reviews during my writer's block - EZDEL2, MountainLord-92, sailormajinmoon, SawManiac211, gallifrey calls now, Guest, Push To Shove, irishartemis, The Wicked Heart, Geraldine, MayFairy, Ahsilaa, doctordiva23, Aietradaea the Barnacled Submarine, Imorgen, CookieCakeMonster, Lost Moon, Theta'sWorstNightmare, XXXMariellaXXX, Beautifulspace, silentnight, Marzipan, Guest and Kuroshitsujilover01.  
**_

_**To Guest: Thanks so much for saying you can't see any of my writer's block in my writing, I appreciate that very much, because it's been a bit of a struggle to push through it lately. your compliments lifted my heart and made me smile :)  
**_

_**To Geraldine: Thanks for the review - it was nice to have the chance to write the Master for a while, I'd been missing him.  
**_

_**To Lost Moon: Yes, Tejana is beginning to trust the Master, at least when it comes to her own safety. When it comes to everyone else's safety, maybe not quite so much, LOL. Thanks as always!  
**_

_**To Beautifulspace: Congrats on your 'A' in Physics, that's awesome! And HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU! Thanks very much for the review :)  
**_

_**To silentnight: Oh yay, thanks for reading "Return to the Valiant" again, I'm really pleased you liked it enough for another read :) Never give up on a happy ending though, even in my stories ;)  
**_

_**To Marzipan: Aah, but there is a bit more to it than that, as you will see as you keep reading. Very glad you love my Master, because I do too \O/  
**_

_**To Guest: Thank you so much - after a lot of blood, sweat and tears, here is the update. Hopefully the next one won't take so long.  
**_

_**And lastly, big HAPPY BIRTHDAY to sailormajinmoon, hope you had a great one :)  
**_

_**This chapter didn't end where I was hoping, but it's a pretty long one...hopefully that makes up for the delay in posting. **Puppy dog eyes**  
**_

* * *

- **CHAPTER TWENTY THREE** -

_"I saw loneliness...I looked into time and space and all I could see were the long, cold spaces between the stars. I listened to the song of the Universe and all I could hear was a hymn of alienation and solitude...the emptiness never, ever went away. __Until now. _When I'm with him, I don't feel it. I feel...whole."

-Tejana, So Many Things Should Have Been Different

* * *

Tejana gathered the broken fragments of the timey-wimey detector into her hands, a wave of weary despair washing through her. The Master had released her from the dreamworld, but his message was very clear. By leaving her the necklace, he was showing her that his plans for her to become Lady Oakdown here on Gallifrey had not changed; by smashing the rhondium sensor, he was making sure that she knew he had no intention of helping her travel back through the cracks.

Her fingers tightened on the mangled device in her hands, hardly even noticing the pain of the sharp, broken edges slicing into her palm. All she could think of was the terrible silver mists inside the crack and the desolate cries of the little human boy who had been sucked into oblivion. She had been speaking the absolute truth when she had told the Master she was frightened. The cracks scared her more than she ever wanted to admit. Jumping back inside one was the last thing she ever wanted to do, especially now that she understood how risky it really was; how incredibly lucky she was to have survived the first time. Just the thought of doing it again, this time without his protection and guidance...the fear rose up inside her until it nearly choked her. Was she insane even to try? Yes, the cracks were all linked together, she had seen that for herself. And yes, they all led back to a single point in the space/time continuum, apparently an exploding TARDIS in her own time – so, in theory, she should be able to retrace her path back there. _ In theory_. But time had been damaged so badly, cracks within cracks, refracting into a billion different realities. Without the Master's help, how would she ever find her way through the infinite tangle of possibilities? Just one wrong step, and she could end up lost anywhere in time and space; or, even worse, consigned to oblivion like that poor little boy. And even if by some miracle she did make it back, the Chaos-Master would simply continue to drain her life-energy until she was nothing more than a dried-up husk, unable to help the Doctor or anyone else.

Overwhelmed by the enormity of the task in front of her, she drew up her knees and rested her aching head on them. Perhaps the Master was right. What could she possibly do to change things? Perhaps she should just give up and allow him to do whatever he thought was best. They could have a fresh start here on Gallifrey. They could have a home and a family, a place to be together, a place to belong. Working together, they could change it all, make everything better. No Daleks. No Time War. No resurrection of Rassilon. Instead, the Master would be President of Gallifrey, and after that, supreme ruler of the Universe – but would that really be so bad? Surely, if she ruled beside him, she could influence him to use his power for good instead of evil?

_No._ A violent shudder crept up from the base of her spine as she thrust away the alluring daydream, forcing herself to see past the temptation to the cold, hard truth. What was she _thinking_? Of _course_ it would be bad. As much as she now loved the Master, she knew him far too well to doubt that if he even got a taste of that much power, he would be well beyond her influence or anybody else's. The urge to dominate was far too deeply ingrained in his nature. It would end up being exactly like The Year That Never Was, only on a much grander scale. Despite all her wishful thinking, that path led only to destruction, even more surely than any of the others she had facing her.

She opened her tightly-clenched hand and looked down at the shattered timey-wimey detector, the pieces now stained with blood from a deep laceration on her palm. She swallowed hard. Even though he had refused to help, her decision had to remain unchanged. When midnight came, somehow she had to find the courage to jump into that crack alone and let fate take its course. There was no other option.

Soft, amber dawn light was filtering into the room through the small, high window. It seemed the entire night had passed while she had been inside the Master's dreamworld. Her eyes strayed over to the bed on the other side of the room. The coverlet was unwrinkled and immaculate. Either Dyoni was up and about very early, or the bed had not been slept in at all. Tejana was surprised to feel a slight pang of regret. She and Dyoni were worlds apart in attitude and experience, and she often found the constant presence of the other girl to be irritating. But right now, facing the almost certain probability of her own death, looming over her no matter which way she turned, she could have done with a friendly face.

She closed her eyes again, sharpening all her senses, hoping for some trace of the Master nearby. Even if he was furiously angry with her, she couldn't help longing for the comfort of his presence. However, if he was there, she couldn't feel him. She was all on her own.

Stiffly, she got to her feet, her hearts heavy with loneliness, and washed and dressed herself in her black uniform, knowing it was the last time she would ever have to put it on. Staring into the mirror, she twisted her hair neatly up on top of her head and secured it with a large clip. Her face was as pale as porcelain, her green eyes dark and shadowed with dread. She looked much more like someone getting ready for a funeral, rather than someone looking forward to a ball. The Master's Otherstide gift glinted like fire around her neck, reflecting the shimmering amber light streaming in from the window. She took the beautiful pendant in her fingers and studied it in the mirror, tracing the delicately engraved branches of the oak tree. _Lady Tejana Oakdown, _she thought sadly to herself, with a stab of yearning. Raising the pendant to her lips, she kissed it, and then concealed it beneath the high neckline of her servant's gown. She hated to think how many awkward questions would arise if a Shabogan serving girl was seen wearing the ancient symbol of Oakdown around her neck.

Taking a deep breath, trying to gather her courage to face the day, she left the room and made her way down to the kitchen. She was not late, but the enormous room was already bustling with activity, even though the sun had barely risen and the Ball was still hours and hours away. Food preparation had already begun, with all kinds of delicacies being skilfully assembled by the white-garbed cooks; while hundreds and hundreds of gleaming glasses and piles of shining dinnerware were being methodically loaded into the transmat cabinets by the other kitchen staff, to be transported up to the ballroom.

In direct contrast to her own anxious mood, the atmosphere around her was merry and light-hearted. Smiling faces were everywhere, while shouts of "Happy Otherstide!" rang out across the busy room, interspersed with cheerful snatches of song. Tejana gazed around in surprise. Otherstide was essentially a Time Lord festival, honouring one of the original founders of Time Lord society, the mysterious, legendary figure known as "the Other". She had never dreamed that, down below the Citadel, the servants were emulating their Time Lord masters and were celebrating it in their own way. In all her time at the Academy, the idea of wishing any of them a "Happy Otherstide" had never even occurred to her. To her shame, it was just another example of how little she had understood the lives of the people who had worked so hard to make her comfortable.

She was about to slip unobtrusively in with the other workers, when a young male steward waylaid her. Even amid the frantic hustle and bustle, it appeared her arrival had not gone unnoticed.

"Fionnula wants to see you immediately," the man said.

At the far end of the room, Tejana could see the Head Housemaid seated at a desk in the small alcove that served her as an office, her brow furrowed as she pored over the complicated task lists that were scrolling across her data terminal. Keeping one eye vigilantly on the screen, she was making decisions, rapping out orders to her waiting staff and resolving any problems put before her with a steamroller-like efficiency that was almost frightening. Tejana watched her in fascination, uncannily reminded of the battle commanders in the War Room during the Time War.

Like all the other Time Lords, she had always taken the Otherstide Ball for granted, enjoying the annual celebration as a rare chance to let her hair down, without concerning herself over how much work it took to organise an event so enormous and so complicated. Now that she thought about it, she realised it had to be a huge undertaking. But Fionnula seemed to have it well in hand; her manner was as calm, confident and assured as always. She had her duty to do and nothing on Gallifrey was going to prevent her from doing it. Despite their differences, Tejana was impressed. She couldn't help feeling that the Time War might have gone very differently if the Time Lords had recruited someone like Fionnula as a strategical commander from the very beginning, instead of relying on incompetent, doddering old fools like Castellan Annos to defeat the Daleks.

Nodding her acknowledgement to the steward, she began to walk across the crowded room. The closer she got to the alcove, the faster her hearts began to beat, as she wondered if Fionnula meant to instantly dismiss her, in punishment for her impulsive outburst from the night before. Even though she was dreading the jump back into the crack, being thrown out of the Citadel before she could even reach it would certainly not improve matters. Many of the other servants stopped work to stare at her as she passed by, and she could hear a tide of whispering swelling behind her back. But nobody greeted her and most refused even to meet her gaze, their eyes skittering back to their tasks as soon as she looked at them, as if her unprecedented radical behaviour was some sort of disease they were reluctant to catch.

Tejana's lips quirked in a faint, bitter smile. No doubt this was the reason for Dyoni's unexpected absence from their room this morning. It seemed 'Kat' had gone overnight from minor celebrity to _persona non grata, _and no-one wanted to associate with her. Their pitying glances made her feel like she was walking along death row, heading for her execution. _Dead woman walking...dead woman walking here... _The idea was ridiculous, and she tried hard to see the funny side of it. But somehow, the attempt at humour fell flat, and left her feeling lonelier and more isolated than ever. _Dead woman walking indeed...if only they knew..._

All at once, she wished the crack would open up right in front of her, here and now, so that she could jump into it and just get it over with. Anything had to be better than hours of waiting around like this, with her own anxieties gradually "doing her head in", as Owen used to say, back in her Torchwood days.

But it appeared that waiting around was the one thing she was destined to do today. Once she reached Fionnula's desk, the Head Housemaid didn't even bother to look up, continuing with her work as if Tejana wasn't even there, even though Tejana knew quite well she had seen her approaching. It was an obvious tactic of psychological intimidation, an attempt to ensure that the disgraced servant girl knew her place, by keeping her in a prolonged state of apprehension. The only problem was, Tejana had been intimidated by the very best in her time and she wasn't bothered in the least.

"You asked to see me, ma'am?" she queried coolly.

Forced to acknowledge her presence, Fionnula glared at her. "You will _not _speak until you are spoken to, Kat."

Tejana felt a flash of anger at the contemptuous tone, but managed to keep her face smooth and expressionless. This time she had no intention of losing her temper, regardless of what happened. All she needed from this woman was just one more day of grace and then none of it would matter any more. "Yes, ma'am."

Even so, as she stood without moving for ten minutes, her hidden frustration continued to mount, despite her best intentions. With everything else she had going on, the tension inside her was drawn as tight as a bow-string, ready to snap. Putting up with this nonsense just seemed to be the final straw. At last, just as she felt she couldn't hold it in any longer, Fionnula dismissed the hovering assistants and sent them about their business. Once they were alone, the Head Housemaid finally deigned to address her again.

"Very well, now I will deal with you, Kat," she said, sitting back in her chair. "I'm sure you already realise that I can't allow the incident that occurred at the evening meal yesterday to pass unpunished. Inciting rebellion against the Time Lords is a very serious matter indeed."

"I wasn't inciting rebellion," Tejana replied curtly. "_Ma'am. _ I was saying that if the plebeian classes on Gallifrey don't defend themselves, then no-one else will."

"Silence!" Fionnula snapped. "I will hear no more treasonous talk. Fortunately for you, due to the Otherstide celebrations, I am already short-staffed. For that reason alone, I will not dismiss you outright as you deserve. You will not be permitted to serve at the Ball, however, but will remain in the kitchen to assist where required. You may consider yourself on probation for the rest of the day, and tomorrow I will decide whether or not you will be permitted to retain your position. I suggest you use that time to rethink your attitude!"

Tejana started in dismay at these words. So she was permitted to stay within the Citadel, but she wouldn't be present at the Ball. A flood of disappointment rushed through her, catching her by surprise. After all, it shouldn't matter a jot to her whether or not she went to the Ball. She _should_ be relieved that her plans to get to the crack had not been ruined. It would be much easier to slip away to the Adytum at midnight now she would be working in the kitchen.

But no matter how hard she tried to convince herself, she knew that it did matter, for one very simple reason. Lord Oakdown had given instructions that young Koschei was to remain in the Infirmary until the evening festivities. If she didn't serve at the Ball, she wouldn't get to see him one last time before she left. And, as much as she hated to admit it, she wanted to see him very, very much.

_Oh, stop it, you idiot! _she told herself, incredulous at the realisation. How much more bloody complicated did she want her life to get? Surely she couldn't have been stupid enough to go and fall in love with her life-mate's younger self as well?

But the truth was, she had...at least a little bit. It wasn't just a physical attraction, although that had definitely played a part too. The Master had been right when he said she would belong to him always now, no matter which incarnation he was in. Young Koschei had always been a part of him - the part that was more gentle and kind, less arrogant and ruthless and power-hungry, more naïve and vulnerable. The person he had been before the drums had completely poisoned his life, before he had been taken over by hatred and rage and an insatiable thirst for revenge. How could she not love that? Now it seemed she wasn't even going to get the chance to say goodbye to him, before the crack wiped all memory of 'Kat' from his mind. And, like it or not, that _hurt_.

"Kat?" Fionnula said icily. "Do you understand what I'm saying to you?"

Lost in her disturbing thoughts of Koschei, Tejana hardly even heard. "Yes, ma'am. Sorry, ma'am," she replied in a preoccupied voice, giving the woman a wooden curtsey. "I will certainly do as you say. Thank you, ma'am."

Without waiting to be dismissed, she turned away, intending to head back out into the organised chaos of the kitchen, badly needing some space to get her head sorted.

"Kat!" This time, Fionnula's voice was sharp and commanding.

Sighing inwardly, just wanting to get the interview over with, Tejana turned back again. "Yes, ma'am?"

"Why did you come here?"

Tejana blinked, unsure what the Head Housemaid meant. "I beg your pardon?"

Fionnula gave her a shrewd, appraising look. "I asked why you came here, to serve at the Academy," she repeated. "The reasons were plain enough for all the other Shabogan girls I've trained previously. They wanted to make something of themselves, to leave their filthy shacks and hovels behind them and to move up in the world. As much as they might secretly despise the Time Lords, they were all grateful for the chance to shake the dust of Low Town off their feet. The one thing they all had in common was that they would do anything...anything at all...to hold on to their positions. But _you_...I don't understand you at all. You walk as if you bow to no-one. You talk as if you are used to being listened to. You work hard, and never shirk, but the tasks themselves are foreign to you, as though you've never done them before. You treat your position with a casualness bordering on disdain. Whatever you were before you came here, it wasn't a servant. And if you didn't come here to improve your lot in life, like all the others, then why _are _you here?"

"I came here," Tejana said curtly. "Because I had no choice in the matter. It wasn't my idea or my preference. And that's all there is to it."

An expression of weary frustration passed over Fionnula's face at the enigmatic answer. "As you will, then. You may keep your reasons to yourself. I can't make you confide in me. But, believe it or not, Kat, I'm trying to help you. As Head Housemaid, it's my job to train you to be the best servant you can be. And if you want to last any time at all here, speaking out publicly against the Time Lords isn't the way to do it."

Despite the heavy burden of her own problems, Tejana couldn't help feeling a flash of admiration, as she suddenly realised she had been very wrong about Fionnula. From their first disastrous meeting, she had dismissed the Head Housemaid as a cold, self-important, autocratic bitch. But slowly she was coming to understand that Fionnula was just somebody who was trying to do a tough job to the best of her ability. She really did care about each and every one of her staff and, as their leader, did her best to shield them from the unpredictable whims of the Time Lords they served, no easy proposition with psychopaths like Anzor wandering around unchecked. Even now, although she was neck deep in the preparations for the Otherstide Ball, a mammoth task which must be driving her nearly to distraction, she still made sure she took the time to counsel what she thought was a foolish young servant girl heedlessly bent on self-destruction.

Tejana knew she should walk away without saying anything further. She had done so much harm to the time-line already, just by being here. But somehow, after all she had been through, she just couldn't let it go. Fionnula deserved to know the truth about the people that she served so faithfully.

"Believe it or not, Fionnula, I was actually trying to help _you_," she said gently. "The Time Lords aren't gods, no matter what they like to think. One day...one day, all of this..." She gestured around her at the bustling kitchen. "...the Academy, the Citadel, even the Mountains of Solace and Solitude themselves...it's all going to fall into nothingness, because of their greed and corruption. The Shining World of the Seven Systems will crumble into dust and scatter to the four corners of the Universe. And your wonderful Time Lords will be no more. Even their name will just be a whisper on the wind, no longer remembered by anyone."

Fionnula gasped in shock at the heretical words. "You sound...you sound as if you _know_ this will happen. Is this some sort of Shabogan mysticism?" she sputtered.

"It will happen," Tejana replied, her voice soft with sorrow. "Not in your lifetime, or in your children's, or even your children's children's. But it _is _coming. So don't idolise the Time Lords, Fionnula. Don't teach your children to worship them, because they're not worth it. And don't let them make you afraid. You have so many amazing people working here and they deserve so much more than that. They should be respected for what they do. Being a good servant doesn't have to mean being a terrified slave. The Time Lords need to know that."

Fionnula was staring at her as if she had never seen her before. "I don't..." she began hesitantly.

But before the Head Housemaid could complete the sentence, another steward rushed up, nearly foaming at the mouth in panic, gabbling frantically about the Scendle Academy sending over an extra fifty unexpected guests, and the moment was lost.

"We will finish this discussion tomorrow, Kat," Fionnula said distractedly, turning back to her data screen. "Be about your work now."

_Tomorrow will be too late for both of us, _Tejana thought sadly. _By then you won't even remember I ever existed...just like Theta won't...and neither will Koschei...  
_

"Yes, ma'am," she responded, giving another deep and graceful curtsey, determined that one Time Lord at least would grant Fionnula the respect she deserved. "Goodbye."

And with that, she slipped away into the seething crowd.

* * *

For the next few hours, Tejana was kept very busy indeed. Fionnula hadn't been joking when she had said she would have to 'assist where required'. It seemed everyone had a job for her to do, from helping with the food preparation, to cleaning up various messes around the kitchen, making up the guest quarters for the unexpected Scendles, and generally running a thousand errands for people who were too busy to go themselves. The list of things to be done for the Ball seemed never-ending. If she hadn't witnessed Fionnula's general-like approach to organising it all, Tejana would have scoffed at the idea of it ever being done.

All in all, she didn't object to being so busy – it helped to keep her mind off things. She was hoping to be assigned to breakfast duty, so that she might be able to snatch a few words with Theta. But she wasn't allowed to go up to the Refectory. Fionnula seemed to be determined to keep her right away from any direct contact with the Time Lords. Tejana wasn't sure if this was an attempt to punish her or to protect her. She had a sneaking suspicion it might be the latter. If any of the senior Time Lords came to hear of her impassioned outburst the previous night, Fionnula would have no choice but to instantly dismiss her from the Academy. Tejana guessed the Head Housemaid was keeping her out of harm's way until she worked out how best to deal with the situation.

A small, wry smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. Little did Fionnula know, but 'Kat' was one problem she would not have to sort out. This time tomorrow, no-one would remember a fiery, disrespectful little red-headed servant girl, or any of the things she had said. It would be as if she had never existed, all over again. As much as Tejana loathed being a servant, the thought was not a pleasant one. She had made a place for herself here – and any place was better than none at all.

_It will work out, _she told herself stubbornly. _It has to!_

She had just emerged from the service transmat tubes in the Great Hall, carrying an armload of sweet-smelling flowers for the guest quarters, when she heard someone calling her name. Looking around, she saw it was Millennia. The blue-haired girl hastened towards her with a big smile.

"Kat!" she cried again.

Tejana curtsied as best as she could with her burden of flowers. "My Lady."

"I just wanted to tell you that you were right!" Millennia bubbled, her face alight with happiness.

"Right, my Lady? About what?"

"About the aria I was composing as an Otherstide gift for Lord Rallon!" Millennia replied. "You said he would be able to tell from the music how I feel about him, and he definitely did!" Her eyes sparkled brilliantly. "He's officially asked me to marry him!"

Tejana forced herself to smile, knowing that Millennia and Rallon would never have the chance to marry before death overtook them both. "That's...wonderful," she faltered. "I'm really pleased for you."

Millennia did an exultant little spin on the spot, her hands clasped to her hearts. "Oh, I'm so happy, Kat, I think I might burst. I don't think there could be a single person on Gallifrey more happy than I am right now."

"Probably not, my Lady," Tejana agreed quietly, averting her eyes from the beautiful, vibrant face before her. "My congratulations to you both."

"Thank you, Kat," Millennia said. "When I saw you there, I just had to share my news with you! And now I must go...I have a million things to do before the Ball. And by the look of those flowers, so must you!"

Saying this, she twirled away again, so light on her feet with happiness that she was almost dancing.

"Wait!" Tejana cried.

Millennia turned back with an inquiring look. Knowing the other girl probably wouldn't approve of her question, Tejana took a deep breath and asked it anyway: "Do you know where Lord Theta is?"

Sure enough, the exuberant light in Millennia's eyes drained away, to be replaced by a grave expression as she retraced her steps back towards where Tejana was standing.

"Yes, I do," she answered. "But I'm not sure I should tell you, Kat. This day is difficult enough for him as it is."

Tejana frowned, not certain she understood. Difficult for him how, exactly? Because of what had happened to Koschei in Low Town? Or for some other reason she hadn't picked up on? What was Millennia talking about?

Seeing her bewilderment, Millennia gave her a pitying glance. "Oh, Kat, hasn't he told you? About Melana of House Firestone?"

_She thinks I'm in love with Theta_, Tejana realised. _Or at least in lust with him. A deluded servant girl obsessed with one of her betters. She thinks I'll be hurt and jealous about my own mother!_

"His promised bride?" she replied brightly. "Yes, he told me. What of it?"

"Tonight, at the Otherstide Ball, their betrothal becomes formal. After that, their forthcoming marriage will be set in stone and there will be no going back."

Tejana felt a twist of pain as it suddenly became clear to her what this was all about. "And Lord Theta...finds this hard?" she asked huskily.

"Oh, yes, so _very_ hard, Kat!" Misinterpreting her dismay, Millennia took her hand and squeezed it comfortingly. "He doesn't want to do it. But he must. He really, really must. Do you understand?"

Unshed tears burnt in Tejana's eyes. "Yes, my Lady. I understand, better than you think."

Millennia gazed at her keenly for a few moments, before saying, "Then I will tell you where he is. He has gone to the Atrium in the North Wing. He wanted to be on his own for a while, to try to come to terms with it all, I think. But perhaps some time with you will make him smile again. Just...be careful, Kat. For both your sakes. I would hate to see either one of you hurt."

_You don't understand, _Tejana thought sadly, remembering her savage argument with the Doctor over her pregnancy back in the Underhenge. _Hurting each other is what my father and I will always do best._

* * *

The Atrium in the North Wing was the furthest point of the Academy, the only place where the buildings actually butted right up against the enormous crystal Dome that enclosed the Citadel of the Time Lords.

The room wasn't large, but it was spectacular, with the transparent, curved surface of the Dome actually forming the outer wall, giving a heart-stopping view out over the Lethe Valley and the smooth, sparkling river below. As Tejana entered, sliding the door quietly shut behind her, she realised it was raining. A summer storm had blown up from the Ocean, the dark, swirling clouds converging and bursting on the peaks of Mount Cadon, crowding across the twin suns and dimming their amber light. Big fat drops of water spattered musically down on to the exterior of the Dome and slid away like tears. A powerful roll of thunder cracked overhead, travelling from some hidden eyrie behind the mountains, and forked lightning speared jaggedly across the sky.

As Millennia had predicted, Theta was there alone. There were no lessons today, since Otherstide was an official holiday, and everyone else was busy preparing for the Ball. He was leaning with his curly blonde head against the cool crystal surface of the Dome, looking out at the tempest sweeping up from the sea, his shoulders slumped in despair.

There was something about the raw anguish on his face that made Tejana want to turn around and slip away unseen. Although the Doctor hadn't tried to hide the fact that his marriage to her mother had been one of convenience for both families, he had never told her just how much it had torn his soul to go through with it all those years ago. All at once, she felt like she was trespassing somewhere unbearably private.

But before she could leave, he looked up and saw her. "Kat." His voice was slightly hoarse and she saw that his eyes were red, as though he had been crying.

And instead of turning away, she found herself drawing nearer, suddenly understanding that he felt just as lonely and abandoned as she did right now.

"Theta," she greeted him softly.

He looked out towards the burgeoning storm; at the dark, sullen clouds boiling towards them down the steep, majestic mountainside.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" he asked, his voice strangely bitter. "The storm? So wild and free." His fists clenched convulsively against the crystal surface. "Everything I'm not. Everything I can never be."

Thunder rolled again and Tejana caught her breath at his words as she looked at him, the lightning flashing behind his head like a crown of silver thorns. Oh gods, he was so very young. Little did he know that, centuries from now, the Daleks would _name_ him 'the Oncoming Storm'; that of all the tempests that had ever been, he would be the one to strike fear into their cold, merciless, non-existent hearts.

_You will be...fire and ice and rage...like the night and the storm in the heart of the sun...ancient and forever, burning at the centre of Time, watching the turn of the Universe..._

She put her hand gently on his arm. "Maybe...one day...you will," she said hesitantly. "Your marriage...it doesn't have to mean the end of everything."

"No." He shook his head, his eyes wild and red-rimmed. "No. I can feel it, more and more every day, the hope just draining away. Like a steel trap, closing in on me...crushing the life out of me." He ran his hand through his hair in a jerky motion, tousling it even more than it already was. "She loves me, you know...Melana. We hardly even know each other, but every time we meet, all I can see in her eyes is this...blind _adoration_, as if I'm everything she's ever wanted. She's got this dream in her head that we're going to live happily ever after. And I'm going to hurt her, Kat. I don't want to, because she's a nice enough girl and none of this is her fault. But I will, because I can't help it...because I'll never be able to love her the way she wants me to. This isn't the life that I wanted and it never will be!"

Tejana could hardly answer. She was too busy fighting back the tears that threatened to pour down her cheeks. From the little the Doctor had told her about his relationship with Melana, she had always assumed that both her parents were equally indifferent to each other at the time of their marriage, both of them entering into the pre-arranged contract with no illusions or expectations. She had never for one moment suspected that her mother had real feelings for her father. The knowledge hurt her more than she had ever thought possible.

"Oh, Theta..." she whispered, trying not to imagine Melana's heartbreak over the unequal partnership and the overwhelming guilt he must have felt towards her. Had they ever found any contentment together? Even just a little, perhaps when she was conceived? She hoped so, with both her hearts; praying she had not been born out of such unhappiness, that somehow she had brought her parents some joy. "I'm so sorry."

Theta closed his eyes and drew in a harsh, shuddering breath, obviously trying to get his emotions under control. Then his hand came up reassuringly to cover hers on his arm. "Nah, I'm the one that's sorry," he said gruffly. "You don't need to hear about my stupid problems. You've got enough on your plate with that crack arriving tonight. Were you looking for me for any particular reason? There's nothing wrong, is there?"

She shook her head, drawing much-needed strength of her own from the warmth of his touch. "No, nothing's wrong. I just wanted to tell you that I'm not allowed to serve at the Ball tonight. So I'll be going to the Adytum directly from the kitchen."

"Not allowed to serve at the Ball? Why not?"

She pulled a face. "I said some things I shouldn't have at the evening meal last night and got myself in trouble. Story of my life, really."

Theta laughed, the tense lines of his face easing a little. "You're really not too good at this servant thing, are you?"

"No, I'm really not," she agreed with a smile. "Anyway, I just wanted to let you know, in case you were worried when I wasn't there. And..." Her voice trailed away.

"And?"

"And, if you can't get away from the Ball at midnight, because of your own responsibilities towards my...towards Melana...I'll understand."

It cost her a lot to say it. The idea of going down into the dark, claustrophobic tunnels beneath the Citadel and facing the horror of the crack alone, without Theta to keep her company and to bolster her courage, was almost unbearable. But if her presence here on Gallifrey disrupted his official betrothal to her mother, if for any reason the marriage did not take place, all possibility of restoring her timeline would be irretrievably lost.

His hand tightened on hers and his blue gaze was serious as he looked down at her. "Not a chance. I might not know exactly who you are, Kat, but I do know that I care about you very much. There's no way I'm going to let you do this alone. I'll be there."

Tears sparkled in her eyes at the determination in his tone, so typical of the Doctor. "Thank you, Theta."

He put his arm around her in a comforting hug and, for a few moments, there was nothing but the muted sound of the rain hissing against the Dome and the low rumble of thunder as they looked out over the misty valley together, both of them lost in their own bleak thoughts.

Then he turned his head to her and asked, "Do you love the father of your baby, Kat?"

Tejana had a sudden vision of the Master, standing in the elegant summer-house on the Oakdown estate, dressed in his Gallifreyan clothing, smiling at her, his eyes dark with desire. _Sinfully beautiful, _she thought, with a sharp stab of pain.

"Oh, yes," she said to Theta in a husky voice. "So very much."

"And does he love you?"

She hesitated for a moment, before replying, "Yes, I believe he does."

He gave her a lop-sided grin that was somehow a bit forlorn. "I'm glad one of us is getting the relationship thing right."

_Getting it right...? _A small bubble of incredulous laughter threatened in the back of her throat. The very idea of the Doctor saying that her relationship with the Master was "getting it right" seemed so ridiculously funny.

Somehow she managed to force back the hysterical giggles. "I wish it was that simple," she said unsteadily.

"Are you really sure you're doing the right thing by jumping back into the crack?" he asked, touching his fingers softly to her cheek. "Do you really think that you'll find him again?"

She sighed. "I have to believe it. I can't stay here. This isn't my place."

"Maybe I should jump into the crack with you," he said, his hand dropping away from her face as he turned to stare moodily back out at the swirling storm. "Change my destiny. I have nothing to lose."

Alarm swept through her hearts, terrified that he might mean it. "You have _everything_ to lose!" she cried. "This might not be my place, but it _is_ yours, at least for now. This is where you're supposed to be. The Universe is all about balance! That's what the dances of Otherstide are supposed to be for - to teach the young Time Lords the importance of universal harmony. Disturb the balance by jumping into a temporal aberration like that crack and there's no telling the harm you can do." Her tone softened at the mule-like stubbornness on his boyish face. "You know I won't let you do it, Theta. Besides, your friends need you here. _Koschei _needs you."

"Koschei's the heir of Oakdown," Theta muttered. "He doesn't need anyone but himself."

"He needs you more than you'll ever know, even if he won't admit it," she said sadly. "History is already writing itself around the pair of you, even as we speak. Once I jump into the crack, I won't be a part of it any more, because no-one here will remember me. But to preserve the balance you have to let it all unfold the way it needs to be."

"You know a lot more about my future than you're telling me, don't you, Kat? And not just mine, but Koschei's as well." Theta studied her upturned face keenly. "Are you ever going to tell me who you are?"

Tejana quickly averted her eyes from the piercing blue gaze, just in case he saw more than she wanted him to. _Spoilers, _she reflected wryly, thinking of River and suddenly understanding how hard it must have been for the archaeologist not to say something she shouldn't back in the Library. There were still hours to go until midnight, still so much potential for everything to go wrong. As much as she wished she could tell Theta the truth, she couldn't afford to take the risk that it would change something vital.

"Right now, I'm Fionnula's errand girl," she hedged, avoiding the question by pulling herself away from him. "And I have to go."

He gave her a shadow of his usual cheeky grin. "Hey, it was worth a try. Very well, then, I'll see you in the kitchen just before midnight, Kat."

She turned back and looked at him, knowing she would always remember him like this, his tall figure outlined against the lightning-laced storm boiling across the Gallifreyan mountain peaks rising behind him.

_You're my father, _she thought emotionally, _the only one I'll ever need or want, however difficult things get between us. I would never change a second of the time we'll have together. You and I...throughout the whole of Time and Space...we're gonna be fantastic, brilliant...magnificent!_

"Yeah," she said. "See you then."


	24. Chapter 24

**_Author's Note: Hi! Yeah, I know, I know, I took ages to update, sorry about that, but I'm still struggling badly with my writing at the moment, so I'm doing the best I can. Anyway, this is a very long chapter, so I'm going to try for a very short author's note._  
**

**_Huge thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter, you are all amazing and very encouraging. Special thanks to Marzipan for all your comments, and especially for being my 500th reviewer, I appreciate it immensely.  
_**

**_Hope the chapter isn't too awful...happy reading!  
_**

* * *

**- Chapter Twenty Four -**

"_The prince leans to the girl in scarlet heels,  
Her green eyes slant, hair flaring in a fan  
Of silver as the rondo slows; now reels  
Begin on tilted violins to span_

_The whole revolving tall glass palace hall_  
_Where guests slide gliding into light like wine;_  
_Rose candles flicker on the lilac wall_  
_Reflecting in a million flagons' shine,_

_And glided couples all in whirling trance_  
_Follow holiday revel begun long since,_  
_Until near twelve the strange girl all at once_  
_Guilt-stricken halts, pales, clings to the prince_

_As amid the hectic music and cocktail talk_  
_She hears the caustic ticking of the clock."_

_- Sylvia Plath, _Cinderella

* * *

_Why was it, _Tejana wondered wryly, _that nobody on Gallifrey could ever do anything without making a long, boring speech about it first?_

Across the other side of the kitchen, near the transmat tubes, Fionnula had lined her serving staff up like tin soldiers in neat, immaculate lines, before inspecting them from head to toe, to ensure they would meet the high standards required by their Time Lord masters. Now she was busy providing them with a lengthy list of "dos and don'ts" to obey once they were up in the ballroom. The rules of etiquette and protocol seemed to go on and on for ever, worse even than the ones the young Time Lords were expected to follow, and they'd been bad enough. Tejana had trouble believing any of the servants would be able to remember them all.

She was seated at a table, where she had been relegated to stuffing what seemed like thousands of sweet pastry cases with _thul_ berries. At first, she'd hoped she would have a chance to steal away, to find and waylay Koschei before he arrived at the Ball. The need to see him – to touch him – just once more still burnt inside her, the sense of something being unfinished weighing her down. After everything that had happened between them, it just seemed wrong to leave without a word, even if he would lose all memory of her and would never know the difference. He might not remember, but_ she _would... and she needed to say goodbye.

However, Fionnula seemed determined to thwart her at every turn, ensuring she was well-supervised by various senior staff members at all times. Tears stung her eyes and she lowered her head to hide them as the other serving staff filed excitedly towards the transmat tubes, leaving her behind. She had to accept that she would never see him again, not as he was in this timeline. She couldn't even ask Theta to say goodbye to him for her, because once she jumped into the crack, Theta wouldn't remember her either.

"Regretting it a bit now, are we?"

Looking up at the sound of the voice, she saw Maerl, the man who was Dyoni's new admirer, standing by the table. Her hearts sank. She really didn't want to spend her last few hours on Gallifrey talking about flutterwings and fledershrews. Or even about Dyoni, come to that, if that's what he had in mind.

"I beg your pardon?" she asked haughtily, hoping he would go away.

Seemingly unperturbed at her tone, he seated himself, reached for some of the pastry cases and began to assist her in filling them. "All year, the maid-servants look forward to Otherstide. It's the only taste of glamour they get in their lives, seeing all the young Time Lords in their formal tunics and the lovely Ladies in their beautiful gowns. There's not a single one of them would miss it for all the world. Dyoni's nearly bursting at the seams, she's so excited. But here you sit, refused permission to attend. So I was wondering if you regretted what you said last night?"

Tejana looked at him narrowly, wondering what he was getting at. He seemed to be genuinely curious. Was he about to lecture her on learning to hold her tongue? If so, he could forget it – she'd already heard more than enough on that subject from Fionnula.

"I do regret not going to the Ball," she said coldly. "So much more than you'll ever understand. But I don't regret a single word of what I said. It was all true and someone should have said it a long, long time ago."

Maerl met her gaze, his eyes a sad, smokey grey. "Truth is a luxury we servants can't afford, Kat," he replied, a serious expression on his face. "You are not the only one to believe as you do. But once you've been here for a while, you'll come to realise there's nothing to be done. Things have been this way for centuries and they will never change. So it's better just to give up and accept it and live your life the best way you can, the same way the rest of us do. Trying to fight it will just make things worse."

His voice was dull and flat and completely without hope. Tejana stared at him, dismayed and repulsed by how apathetic he was. She was accustomed to men who reached out, seized the Universe by the balls and squeezed as hard as they could. There was no chance either the Doctor or the Master would meekly and unquestioningly accept whatever bullshit was dished up to them in life - and neither would Jack, or even John Hart. If they didn't like the way things were, every single one of those men would _change_ it, for better or for worse. However, it seemed that a billion years of abject servitude to the Time Lords had slowly bred out every spark of independence or rebellion in Maerl's people, leaving behind a race of inert, spineless jellyfish.

"Of _course _things can change!" she said incredulously. "Nothing stays the same for ever. And the nature of every change is determined by what individuals do...or _don't_ do. Sometimes the smallest action by the most insignificant person can make all the difference. A single man can save the entire Universe...believe me, I've seen it happen more than once."

Maerl frowned, his hands stilling over his work. "What do you mean, you've seen it happen?"

She shook her head. "That's not important. What's important is that you _have_ to believe that what you do matters. When I was a very little girl, my father taught me a poem, written by a woman named Emily Dickinson, and I've never forgotten it: 'If I can stop one heart from breaking, I shall not live in vain. If I can ease one life the aching, or cool one pain, or help one fainting robin unto his nest again, I shall not live in vain.' If you're too frightened to do even the smallest thing to change things for the better, you're not living at all, Maerl...you're only existing. And what's the point of that?"

"That's my choice," he growled. "And the choice of every person here. You're new here, a nobody! You don't get to make it for us."

Tejana's head drooped tiredly, unable to deal with the hostility in his tone. In a few hours, none of the servants would remember her or anything she had said, so what was the point in arguing with him? An image of the approaching crack shimmered in the back of her mind, making her feel sick with apprehension.

"No, you're right, I don't," she agreed in a low voice. "But I_ do_ get to make my own choices. And right now, I choose not to continue this conversation, if you don't mind."

"Fine! Suit yourself, _my lady_!" he snapped in bitter mockery. "I'll just go and see if I can find a fainting robin to help back into his nest again, shall I?"

With that, he jumped to his feet, scattering berries across the table, and stalked away.

Tejana bit her lip at his sarcasm and returned her attention to the pastry cases, determined not to allow his anger to get to her. Her time was so short now. Up above, in the ballroom, she guessed that Lord Borusa would be finishing his welcome speech. Then he would open the Ball, dancing with one of the senior Time Ladies. He was an excellent dancer, she remembered, graceful and limber to a fault, even in his later regenerations. Although it had seemed almost sacrilegious to imagine such a thing, Tejana had often wondered what he had been like in his youth, in the days when he had attended the Academy as a student.

_With my rotten luck, I'll jump into the crack and go even further back in Gallifrey's history, _she reflected ruefully. _And then I'll find out first hand._

After her argument with Maerl, nobody else spoke to her, the other servants showing their disapproval by ignoring her completely. She didn't mind. With the terror of the crack looming over her, the effort of making pointless conversation was too much to bear. The next couple of hours seemed to drag by incredibly slowly. Tejana felt it when they began to dance. The music seemed to seep down through the ancient stones of the Academy, silently stirring her soul. She could feel the wild, sweet tempo, the haunting melodies, sense the feet beating out the pulsating rhythms of the Universe on the onyx floor far, far above. Her feet twitched and she longed to be there, dancing with them, losing herself in the collective psyche of her people, just as she had done so many times in the past. She wondered who Koschei was dancing with, and whether his unknown partner matched him as well as she had done. Her hearts cried a little at the thought. And her mother...oh, she wished she could have seen her father dancing with her mother, just once, an image to treasure for always, no matter how many Roses and Rivers he took up with in the future. But she knew such wishes were futile...she wasn't Cinderella and this wasn't a fairytale. No matter how hard she wished, she wasn't going to the Ball.

Supper-time came and went. She helped to load all the delicacies they had spent so long preparing into the transmat cabinets, sending them upstairs for the Time Lords to consume. Then she helped to unload the same cabinets, transferring the dirty dishes to the sanitation units, making sure she kept busy so she didn't have to think.

Still time meandered ponderously onwards, until there was only a little less than two hours until midnight. Tejana was becoming more and more on edge. She fancied she could hear a clock inside her head, counting down the seconds. _Tick tock, goes the clock, our happiness is fleeting; tick tock, goes the clock, soon sadness we'll be greeting... _the creepy song of the marionettes on Mnemosyne stole through her brain, making her shiver.

And that was when something unexpected happened. The transmat tubes flickered and two figures appeared. One was Fionnula and the other was Salome, the girl with the acid burn on her right cheek, whom Tejana had met the previous day in the Infirmary. She had been one of the servants recruited to wait at the Ball, as happy and excited as any of the others. But now she had her hands up over her face, her shoulders shaking with hysterical sobs. The Head Housemaid touched her gently on the arm and she ran towards the door, still crying heart-brokenly.

"Cardinal Lenardi said she was hideous and had no right serving at the Ball, where people could see her," Fionnula said. Her face and her voice were both expressionless, but furious outrage burned in her eyes. "He dismissed her back down to the kitchen and forbade her to appear in the public areas of the Academy again."

Another example of Time Lord cruelty, Tejana thought bitterly, unthinking and uncaring of how much they hurt. If it hadn't been for Anzor and his psychopathic games, Salome would have been as pretty as any of the others. She turned and gave Maerl a pointed look, but he merely dropped his eyes and refused to meet her gaze.

"Kat, you'll have to take her place," Fionnula continued briskly.

Tejana's head shot up in genuine surprise. "_Me?_"

"It doesn't mean that you have been reprieved, just that you are very fortunate," the Head Housemaid snapped. "I cannot afford to be short-handed, and you are the only staff member I have available that they would consider presentable!"

"Yes, ma'am," Tejana said meekly.

"Very well! Tidy yourself and present yourself in service area of the ballroom. The duty steward will tell you what to do. Quickly now!"

Hurriedly, Tejana did what she was told, removing her apron and patting her hair into order. As sorry as she felt for Salome, inwardly she was singing with happiness. There was time enough left to speak to Koschei and to see her mother. And when she jumped into the crack, whatever ended up happening, even if she was wiped out of existence forever, she would at least have that to take with her.

_Fear not, Cinderella, _she thought a little giddily, as she headed towards the transmat tube. _You SHALL go to the Ball!_

* * *

The Ball was in full swing when she slipped unobtrusively through the servant's entrance. As soon as she emerged from the transmat tube, she was met by a frazzled steward, who thrust a tray of drinks into her hands and curtly ordered her to start circulating with them immediately. Then he vanished, leaving her on her own. Balancing the tray, a little uncertain as to what she was supposed to do, she began to weave her way into the crowd. Searching her memory, she recalled drinks appearing in her hand at various stages during the Ball when she had danced here, but she couldn't quite remember how they had got there. She supposed she had taken them from trays just like this one. It was both reassuring and annoying to realise that none of the Time Lords who accepted drinks from her tonight would probably even register her existence. At least there was no reason her anonymity should be compromised, unless she did something foolish.

She had no sooner had the thought, when a trickle of awareness slipped through her consciousness, as if someone was standing closely behind her. She whirled around but, predictably enough, apart from the general press of the crowd, there was no-one there.

_Koschei...?_

There was no reply to her silent query, and the sensation was gone as quickly as it had come. But she was not fooled. The Master was here somewhere, not too far away, albeit invisible in his disembodied form. She knew it with every atom of her soul. Ordinarily, the realisation of his presence would have brought her relief and comfort. However, given the contentious way they had last parted, she couldn't help being troubled. The question was, did he intend to help or to hinder? Was he here to watch over her, or to fulfill some twisted agenda of his own? He was so unpredictable, the answer could be either - or even both - she had no way of knowing. And, when it came to the Master, not knowing made her very, _very_ nervous.

"You there! Girl! Are you serving or not?"

The querulous voice brought her back to reality with a jolt, recalling her mind to her supposed duties. With a curtsey and a murmured apology, she handed a drink to the wrinkled old Time Lady who had addressed her. The woman took it with a disparaging sniff, before commenting acidically to her equally ancient male companion about uppity little red-headed snippets and how servants definitely weren't what they were in _her_ day.

Tejana surreptitiously rolled her eyes and kept walking, telling herself there was nothing she could do to second-guess the Master right now. She couldn't allow herself to be distracted. The clock was ticking away her last minutes on Gallifrey. She had to do what she had come here for and then get out. The gods alone knew, it was going to be difficult enough locating young Koschei in this melee without the benefit of the psychic link.

The Ballroom she and the other servants had worked so hard to prepare looked absolutely stunning, even more glamorous than she remembered from her own youth. As she moved through the crowd, carefully searching for any sign of young Koschei, she found her eyes roving around in hungry, nostalgic pleasure, reacquainting herself with the splendour of the two enormous, glittering crystal chandeliers, one at each end of the room; the gleaming, circular dance-floor, the black onyx lavishly inlaid with the golden, figure-of-eight Symbol of Rassilon; the sweeping black staircase leading up to the wide, upper galleries; the soaring walls, draped in rich swathes of antique-white and beige silk; and the magnificent, diamond-trellised balustrades, reflecting the soft, luminescent light from the holographic stars scattered across the vaulted ceiling. The air was perfumed with the fragrance of a myriad of flowers; rare, exotic blossoms that could only be found on Gallifrey, entwined around the ancient, carved pillars and extravagantly banked against the walls.

But even more exotic than the flowers were the people. The huge room was absolutely teeming with hundreds and hundreds of Time Lords and Ladies, in all shapes and sizes. Some were dancing to the beautiful, liquid music pouring from the orchestra pit, the circular floor filled with gracefully pirouetting couples; while others stood talking and laughing and drinking around the perimeter.

It was like looking out over a glorious sea of shifting colour. Here and there, Tejana could see the traditional high collars and flowing robes of the senior Time Lords, in a rainbow of different hues, representative of each of the Academies - the scarlet and orange of the Prydonian chapter, the green of the Arcalians, the heliotrope of the Patrexes, the silver-grey of the Dromeians, the light-blue of the Ceruleans and the primrose yellow of the Scendles. But a far more common tonight were the rich, gorgeous textures of fashionable Gallifreyan formal wear; sensual silks and satins for the women, elegant velvets and brocades for the men; all of them in a spectacular, mouth-watering display of vibrant, riotous colour.

For Tejana, the entire scene had a dream-like quality. After returning from E-Space and finding that the War was over, it had taken her years to come to terms with the fact that she and the Doctor, and – as she later found out – the Master, were the last survivors of their race. Until she finally managed to become accustomed to it, the dead, dusty silence within the psychic link had been like a virtual ache inside her head. And yet here she stood, at the very heart of Time Lord society, surrounded by a multitude of like minds, full of life and vigour, all pressing intimately against hers. Despite the extra effort required to maintain her concealing shields, the sensation of no longer being so isolated was incredibly intoxicating, like being given a much-needed drug after desperately craving it for a very long time.

A large dais had been set up at the end of the room, opposite the staircase. On it, the Lord President sat in state, on a chair of such grand proportions that it could only have been described as a throne. He was wearing his cream-coloured skull-cap and matching robes of office, with the Sash of Rassilon gleaming magnificently around his neck. At his right hand sat an overweight blonde man with plump cheeks, whom Tejana guessed to be the current Gallifreyan Chancellor, Umbast. He was perspiring heavily, even though he wasn't doing anything more strenuous than observing the dancing. Looking at him, Tejana couldn't help being reminded of a chubby pink piglet. On the President's left sat Lord Borusa, majestic in his formal robes, enjoying his place of honour as the Patrician of the host Academy for the evening. Arrayed behind them were the other members of the Inner Circle of the High Council, including Lord Oakdown, and the Patricians of the other Academies, each of them looking as lofty and superior as they knew how.

Drifting invisibly in the crowd, Tejana made a mental note to stay as far away from that end of the room, and Borusa's penetrating gaze, as she possibly could. If everything went to plan, she would be gone from here very soon. There was no point in tempting fate in the meantime.

All at once, in the sea of strange faces, she saw one she knew. It was Drax. He was standing and talking to an angular female in an astonishingly pink gown, who towered over him by at least a foot. Tejana looked at him in surprise. As a Time Lord, Drax had always been known and liked for his mischievous, devil-may-care personality and his stubborn refusal to take anything seriously, rather than for any claim to good looks. As far as she knew, unlike most of his contemporaries in the Deca, he had never been outstandingly handsome in any of his regenerations. However, tonight, dressed in his dark red formal tunic, he managed to look both charming and distinguished. He bowed elegantly to his partner and took her hand to lead her towards the dance floor. As he passed Tejana by, his eyes caught hers and he gave her a grin and a devilish wink. A lump rose in her throat as she saw again the man she had fought alongside in the Time War; the maverick commander who had always had her back, whose cheerfulness and wry, self-deprecating humour had always lightened the darkest of situations.

_Goodbye, Tejana...bin a pleasure servin' with ya, luv..._

His final, dying words echoed in her head as she turned her face away, tears in her eyes, not wanting to watch any more as he joined the dance. Drax... Rallon... Millennia... even Borusa, her one-time mentor... their names scraped jaggedly over her hearts, all of them alive here in this room, yet nothing left of them in her timeline except memories. So much pain and sorrow and loss, so many things she couldn't change. It made her even more determined to fight for her own happy ending, because, damn it all, someone had to get one, didn't they? Surely, as the last three survivors of their ancient race, she and the Doctor and the Master deserved that much.

The dancers whirled and shifted, a brilliant kaleidoscope of colour and movement, and as they parted, she saw Ushas. She was clothed in a clinging gown of purple damask, her curvaceous figure at its most alluring, her long, dark hair woven with glittering strands of amethyst. Much as it galled her, even Tejana had to admit the other woman looked absolutely ravishing. She was standing alone at the opposite edge of the dance floor, a stormy, bad-tempered look on her face. There was no sign of her partner, whoever he was.

_Poor sod...probably ran away screaming, if he had any sense, _Tejana thought bitchily. _She certainly doesn't look very happy. _

Ushas had her arms folded, her eyes fixed belligerently on something on the dance floor, obviously unhappy with whatever she was seeing. Curious, Tejana followed her gaze, trying to identify the source of her discontent. At first, she couldn't locate anything unusual about the whirling couples. But then, searching through the graceful patterns of the dance, she managed at last to pick out Theta's curly blonde head, and suddenly she understood. He was wearing a midnight blue tunic, embellished at the hem with the silver spiral triskele that was the symbol of the House of Lungbarrow. The material of his clothing was not as rich and fine as some of the other young Time Lords, and the embroidery of his house emblem not nearly so exquisite, but to his daughter – and no doubt to Ushas, as well – he looked stunningly handsome nonetheless.

Then the dance swirled again, and she was able to see his partner for the first time - a slender woman, much taller than Tejana, but still shorter than Theta, her head at about the same height as his shoulder. She had long, white-blonde hair, formally arranged like all the other Time Ladies in a series of tight, inter-coiled braids. She was dressed in a gorgeous silk gown of burnt orange, the same colour as a Gallifreyan summer sky.

Immediately, Tejana forgot all about Ushas. Her eyes clung to Theta's partner, hungry for every detail. She knew she was staring like an idiot, but she couldn't seem to stop herself. Up until now, she had only ever had the haziest picture of what her mother had looked like back in this timeline, drawn from the occasional flash of psychic insight into her father's closely-guarded memories; lapses in his mental control that happened very, very rarely. She drew in her breath sharply with shock. That long, white-blonde hair, pale enough to be almost silver...so much like Tejana's own, in her first regeneration. The tall, willowy body, the heart-shaped face – it was like looking at a portrait of herself when she was younger.

_So this is my mother, _she thought, stunned. _My mother as she was when they met..._

Her emotions spun into turmoil as she tried to absorb the gut-wrenching truth she had never understood before - that every time the Doctor had looked at her when she was growing up, he would have been seeing her mother's face.

Melanakaturadilena had died when her daughter was only seven years old. At first, Tejana had missed her intensely, the sense of loss burning in a never-ending spiral of endless misery, deep inside her. But slowly, as the years went by, the pain had begun to dull. And then, as she grew older, her father had become everything to her instead. Melana had given her life, but the Doctor was the one who had taught her to live in it. If her mother had been her guiding star, her father had become her sun, the brilliant, blazing centre around which her entire existence had revolved.

Now she had only the faintest of memories of Melana. The touch of a gentle hand. A snatch of lullaby, sung over her cradle. A soothing voice in the darkness of the night. But each fragment was a cherished treasure, as warm and fragile as a candle flame, the fleeting moments all she had ever expected to have of the mother she had lost so long ago.

And yet here she was, just a stone's throw away, at the very height of her youth and beauty, safe in the arms of her husband-to-be, her face radiant with pleasure. It was an incredibly bitter-sweet moment for Tejana, her joy at seeing her mother inextricably alloyed with pain. Melana's large dark eyes were fixed adoringly on Theta's handsome face, sparkling with love and laughter and hope for the future. Together, they looked like the poster couple for happiness and contentment.

But it was all a lie, just another Gallifreyan false front, a rosy apple with poison at the core. Tejana knew all too well the rebellion and resentment festering behind Theta's controlled, neutral expression. As she watched them dance together, she felt her hearts aching with compassion for her young mother. There was more than one reason for likening the Doctor to the sun, even this far back in his time-stream – because everyone knew that if you flew too close to the sun, you ended up getting burnt.

As if sensing her thoughts, Theta's eyes sought and found hers across the crowded room. Startled at seeing her so unexpectedly, his mask momentarily fell away and she could see the restless anger and frustration burning in his gaze; a wounded animal fighting to its last breath against a trap. He would never know it, but the look was like an arrow, stabbing her between both her hearts, driving home all over again just how little he had wanted the marriage with her mother.

_Or, ultimately, the responsibility of a child, _her inner voice taunted, raking over the old hurt that had never really healed, even after all this time. No matter how many centuries went by, no matter how old she got, there would always be some part of her that forever remained the child the Doctor had left behind.

Theta raised his eyebrows at her, silently querying whether she still intended to carry out her plan to slip away to the Adytum at midnight. She gave him a quick confirmatory nod and he returned his eyes to his partner, a meaningless smile plastered across his face as the dance swept them away again.

"They're a sweet-looking couple, aren't they?" a sarcastic voice said in her ear. "Makes you want to believe in true love and everlasting happiness...I _don't _think."

Tejana's stomach did an uncomfortable flip-flop. Trying to compose herself, she turned around. Koschei was standing close behind her. He was wearing his signature black, as always, his lithe form tall and slender in the formal tunic and trousers. His high collar and sleeves were embroidered in gold and across his chest was emblazoned the magnificent golden oak tree of his House. Tejana's gaze wandered slowly up his body to his face and her mouth went dry. The med-techs had obviously done their jobs well. His features were breathtakingly handsome, with no visible damage remaining from the attack in Low Town, apart from the faintest sign of faded bruising in places. They probably hadn't dared to fail, Tejana thought cynically – knowing Koschei's father, the consequences to the medical staff if they allowed the heir of Oakdown to be permanently scarred would have been severe indeed. His navy-blue eyes studied her intently, a small smile touching his lips, as if he guessed exactly what she was thinking. There was no doubt in her mind that he knew precisely how good he looked. In all the time she had known him, the Master had never been short on ego.

"It took you long enough to get here," he said. "I was starting to think you were never coming."

"I...was detained in the kitchens, my Lord," she replied, pulling her eyes away from his, unsettled by the way her hearts leaped when she realised he had been watching for her arrival.

He bent closer to her, near enough for the warmth of his breath to stir the tendrils of her hair. "Well, now that you're here, you can serve me, Kat."

Extremely aware of the crowd pressing around them, she kept her gaze lowered, trying not to show how much his nearness affected her. Trying, for the last time, to act like the servant she would never be. Perhaps seeing him again had not been the best idea after all. He was clearly at his most dangerous tonight, at least as far as she was concerned. Sexual electricity seemed to sparkle and burn in the air around them. "S...serve you?" she faltered.

He indicated the tray in her hands. "A drink, Kat. I want a drink."

"Of course, my Lord," she murmured, a faint flush staining her cheeks as she handed him one of the long-stemmed crystal glasses. His eyes glittered with dark amusement as he raised it to his lips and swallowed deeply, his gaze never leaving her face. Something about his demeanour told Tejana that this was far from the first drink he had taken tonight. He wasn't drunk – quite the contrary, he was in perfect control. But there was an edge about him, a barely-restrained recklessness that worried her. A sense that he had nothing left to lose. Just the fact that he was speaking to her so openly in public was a concern, especially with his father in the room. She just prayed he wasn't going to do something stupid, not tonight of all nights, when everything hung so finely in the balance. Without realising what she was doing, she flicked a quick, nervous glance over her shoulder, back through the crowd, involuntarily searching for the reassurance of Theta's face.

But as fleeting as the look was, Koschei caught it and he stiffened with anger. For a moment, she thought he might seize her roughly, as he had in the Infirmary, but much to her relief, he didn't move.

"So, tell me...what do you think, Kat?" he asked silkily, his voice layered with an indefinable sense of menace that sent a shiver up her spine, as potent as if he had stroked a finger across her flesh. "About Theta and Melana, I mean? A match made in heaven...or in hell? You must have some opinion...you've been staring at them for long enough."

"I hope they find some happiness together," she said, with perfect truth. "Everyone deserves that."

He gave a harsh bark of laughter. "Is that so? Perhaps you could explain that to my father – it seems no-one has ever let him in on that particular piece of wisdom."

Draining his glass in one long swallow, he set it back down on her tray with a small thump, before taking another one, his long, slender fingers wrapped so tightly around the fragile stem that Tejana was afraid it would shatter in his hand.

"So...no jealousy, Kat?" he taunted softly. "No dismay that soon Theta will be sharing his life and his bed with the lovely Melana?"

She could feel the heat of his body, standing so close to her; feel the turbulence he held leashed inside, aware that he could allow the reins of his control to slip at any minute. She lifted her chin and met his gaze squarely. "I don't get jealous. And certainly not over Lord Theta."

A hard, cruel smile curved his lips. "Everyone gets jealous sometimes, Kat. It's just a matter of finding the right button to press. How about if I told you I came here with Lady Ushas tonight? It's not the first Ball I've taken her to, and it probably won't be the last. She's from one of the most prominent families on Gallifrey – my father deems her a very suitable consort for me. We dance together, drink together, and afterwards I always take her back to my room and fuck her senseless. She's very good in bed, you know. Very, _very_ good."

The harsh words sliced at Tejana like razor blades, just as he intended them to. _Ushas. _Oh, of course, it would have to be Ushas, wouldn't it? She had an instant image in her head of the two of them together...his hands stripping that sexy, purple dress from Ushas's body, kissing her, touching her, driving deep inside her, his handsome face twisted in overwhelming lust...and a surge of pure, white rage sizzled through her veins, her palm itching to drop the tray and slap him as hard as she could.

Instead, she refused to rise to the bait, however much he wanted her to. Carefully balancing the remaining drinks, she sank into a curtsey and said coolly, "I am very pleased for you, my Lord. I hope you and Lady Ushas enjoy yourselves very much."

In response, a cyclone of black, frustrated temper swirled in his eyes. "I can never make you react, can I?" he snarled bitterly. "I know you want me, as much as I want you, but I can never make you admit it. Why exactly is that, Kat?"

Tejana gave a silent sigh, all her anger dissolving into a wave of weariness, wishing she could shout out the truth. _Because I am old and you are young and this Ball happened such a long, long time ago, _she thought, her mind returning sadly to Drax, and Millennia and Rallon. _I won't even be born for another two centuries. What right have I to be jealous of anything you do?_

"I'm a servant, my Lord," she reminded him. "It's not my place to have any dealings with you."

For some reason, he seemed to find that funny. The fury lifted away from his expression and he laughed, before tilting his head back and emptying his glass again. "Not your place? Oh, my lovely little Kat, don't you understand? I'm the Heir of Oakdown. _I'm_ the one who decides what your place will be!"

At that moment, there was a great swirl of music, summoning the dancers back to the floor. Tejana's eyes widened, as she recognised the melody and realised the Great Dance was about to start. This was the most honoured and ritualistic of the Otherstide dances. It was always the last of the traditional dances on the programme at the Ball. After that, the formal part of the celebration was considered to be over and, before long, the older Time Lords would retire for the evening, leaving the ballroom to the wilder after hours festivities preferred by their young students.

Tejana felt her breathing quickening. The music called to her like a siren's song, enticing and beautiful. She had always loved the Great Dance. There had never been anything else to compare with it. It was seductive and mystical, voluptuous and liberating, carnal and spiritual, all at once - an abstract conceptualisation of the infinite majesty of time and space, the ultimate affirmation of the balance of the Universe. Dancing it with Damon, becoming one with him as their steps entwined, she had felt the stars burning in her blood, the planets turning in her soul, the heat and the light, the cold and the dark, life and death, heaven and hell. She remembered the emotional high, the pure, unbelievably sensual rush of it; the feeling of belonging and deep identification with her people and her birth-right, as their feet had moved in the ancient choreography that countless other Time Lords had danced before them, since the beginning of Time.

The last time she had danced it, she had been little more than a child. Older than Theta and Koschei were now, to be sure; and more experienced too, because - by then - she had already travelled with the Second Doctor for a while. But still, looking back, she had been so woefully innocent, so ignorant of the true passion and the pain of the Universe. What would it be like to dance it _now_, to trace the Web of Time across the floor with close to six hundred years of hard-won experience and knowledge, of love and heart-break, peace and war, light and darkness? What would it be like to dance it, not with Damon, who had been her childhood friend, but with _Koschei_, her forever-lover?

The beguiling image burnt inside her like a flame, like an unquenchable, yearning ache. Ruthlessly, she shoved it away, refusing to even acknowledge or consider it. All around her, couples were heading for the dance floor and taking up their positions. The Great Dance was sacrosanct at Otherstide - all the Time Lord couples at the Ball were required to participate, it was an unwritten, unbreakable rule of Gallifreyan society. Tejana could see familiar faces everywhere - Theta and Melana, her young mother's face shining with happiness; Drax, awkwardly squiring his tall, blonde partner; Millennia and Rallon, looking lovingly into each other's eyes, every step in besotted synchronisation.

But, standing beside her, Koschei didn't move. Again, that frisson of unease stole through her. Did he mean not to dance at all? Oh gods, surely not. For the Heir of Oakdown to so publicly flout his social responsibilities would cause a scandal of unprecedented levels; not to mention causing devastating insult to Ushas and her prominent House. Was this how he intended to get back at his father for what had happened in Low Town, by defying him in front of all these people? Tejana felt dizzy just thinking about it, unable even to contemplate the retribution that would descend on his head following such a rash action.

"My Lord, the Great Dance is about to begin," she said.

"I know," he responded calmly, making no effort whatsoever to leave her side, or to rejoin Ushas.

Distantly, far across the other side of the room, Tejana could see the other Time Lady frantically searching the crowd for her absent partner, obviously alarmed that they were about to miss the beginning of the dance. As if feeling the eyes resting on her, Ushas looked around sharply and saw Koschei standing so closely beside Tejana's slender, diminutive figure. Instantly, her face contorted in fury and she began to work her way around the edges of the ballroom towards them, mercilessly elbowing people out of her way as she came. If looks could kill, both Tejana and Koschei would have been struck dead on the spot.

_Oh, crap, _Tejana thought in mounting apprehension. _Just what I don't need!_

Whatever this was, whatever insanity had seized him, whatever controversy was about to erupt, she couldn't afford to get drawn into it. She had less than an hour to get to the Adytum on time for the crack as it was.

"I think your partner is looking for you," she told Koschei, backing away from him into the milling crowd, praying she could disappear before Ushas had the opportunity to scratch her eyes out.

However, her retreat was incredibly short-lived; she had only managed a couple of steps when his hand shot out and grabbed her by the arm, preventing her escape. He glanced at the enraged Ushas, who was getting closer and closer, and he smiled tautly. The introductory music grew louder, swelling all around them in an irresistible tide. The vicious expression of triumph on his face sent a stab of fear all the way through her.

"It's fine," he said, grabbing the tray from her hands and slamming it down on a nearby side-table. "I've already found her."

"Wha-?" she began, but before she could finish the word, his hand was in her hair, and to her astonishment, he pulled away the clip that confined it and tossed it to the ground. Her long, copper tresses flooded over her shoulders, pouring down her back in glorious disarray.

"Much better!" he said in satisfaction, caging her in the unyielding circle of his arms and sweeping her out on to the black onyx floor.

Panic and disbelief exploded inside her, nearly stopping both her hearts, as he deftly twirled her through the crowd to the very centre of the dance, the place of honour traditionally occupied by the descendants of the Great Houses and their partners. All around her, she could sense the incredulous, horrified gasps of the other dancers. In their black clothing, the pair of them stood out starkly against the silken kaleidoscope of colours surrounding them, inexorably drawing every eye. Behind her, Tejana thought she heard a furious shriek of rage as Ushas realised what had happened. She tried to struggle, but it was no use, his grip was like iron, his youthful, handsome face as hard as stone.

"Are you _insane_?" she hissed. "What are you _doing_?"

"I told you," he said, his blue eyes dark with bitter purpose. "I will never again do anything that son of a bitch orders me to. And after tonight, he will be in no doubt that I mean it. If it's good enough for Lord Oakdown to 'dance' with a Shabogan, then it's good enough for his heir!"

"But this is the Great Dance of the Time Lords!" she exclaimed frantically. "I'm a _servant_. Every single senior Time Lord on Gallifrey is here! I can't dance this with you in front of all these people...I _can't_!"

"We both know that's not true. You dance better than most of the Time Ladies here!" he gritted out. "And now the dance has begun and there's no stopping it. So you have no choice, Kat!"

Sure enough, even as he spoke, the orchestra began to play in earnest, unaware of the disturbance rippling across the dance floor. A great white curtain of sound swept over them like a tidal wave and enveloped them. Unable to resist the age-old demand of the music, Tejana found herself moving gracefully with him, her feet automatically finding the steps without any real intention on her part. Realising too late what she was doing, she did her best to falter, to stumble and fail, just as a real servant girl would do in this impossible situation. But the music had her now, and she couldn't seem to break free. This was the Great Dance, one of the most revered and powerful rituals of her childhood – she just couldn't bring herself to profane it, no matter how hard she tried.

Lissome and lovely, she circled and spun, recreating the Web of Time with her feet, her obsidian skirts swirling around her; pulling apart from Koschei, only to return to him time and time again, as if drawn by a magnet. Her body seemed to be spellbound, traversing the intimate, sensual landscape of the dance against her will. It was almost as though they were dancing their own story – the shattering events which formed her past and which would become his future. His eyes were locked to hers, his hunger for her gleaming in the navy blue depths, and she couldn't look away. She knew her own gaze reflected an equal hunger. Now that they were dancing, he barely touched her, his fingers lightly grazing hers as they came together over and over, but desire for him shivered along her skin. The more they danced, the more disconnected from reality she became, and it became harder and harder to remember that she shouldn't be doing this. In her timeline, he was the yang to her yin; she was a part of him and he was a part of her. It felt so _right _to be here with him, sharing this with him. In breathtaking unison with the other couples, they whirled around the floor in perfect harmony. Together, they were part of a powerful, mesmerising whole; the entire room filling with a strange, soaring, eldritch energy as hundreds of young Time Lords danced the intricate patterns of the Web of Time, in absolute, confident affirmation of who and what they were. And every single step tied another knot in the treacherous net that was gradually weaving itself around her.

But then, out of the corner of her eye, Tejana saw Theta's set, anxious face, glaring at her imperatively over Melana's shoulder as he danced nearby, his blue eyes bright with reprimand and deadly warning. All at once, like a bucket of cold water falling over her head, the insidious spell seemed to break, all the magic of the dance evaporating into thin air. As if waking from a dream, Tejana tore her eyes away from Koschei and became aware of the blurred circle of faces ringing the ballroom. Everyone who was not dancing had pressed as closely as they dared, each of them striving for a front row position to salaciously ogle the unfolding scandal, waiting breathlessly to see what would happen when the dance was over.

They were all whispering excitedly and pointing, Time Lord and plebeian alike. Nothing like this had ever happened before in thousands of years of Otherstide celebrations _–_ _a low-bred servant girl, daring to dance the Great Dance of the Time Lords with the Heir of Oakdown! – _suddenly, Tejana felt light-headed and sick inside, the devastating reality of her predicament striking her like a punch between the eyes. Koschei had been right. Once the dance had begun, there had been never been any escape for her. Even if she broke and tried to run, there was no way she would ever get past that predatory ring of people without being caught. And she _would_ be caught – the Time Lords would never forgive a breach of protocol as enormous as this. Unless a huge miracle happened, all her hopes of leaving Gallifrey had just been lost. There wasn't a chance in the world she could reach the Adytum before the crack arrived at midnight.

Then they spun past the dais and she realised to her horror that missing the crack was the least of her worries. Lord Oakdown, President Drall and Lord Borusa were all on their feet, staring down at them. As expected, Lord Oakdown appeared almost rabid with fury at the humiliation of his House, while President Drall looked appropriately grave and shocked. But it was the expression on Borusa's face that chilled her to the very bone. While the eyes of the other two were fixed on Koschei, incensed and disgusted at his open and blatant defiance of everything the Time Lords stood for, Borusa's narrowed gaze was concentrated solely on Tejana, watching every move she made, his expression both assessing and calculating. Immediately, she knew he wasn't even slightly interested in the potential disgrace of the House of Oakdown. True to form, he had already seen past that; his shrewd, brilliant mind homing in on the one essential fact his distracted colleagues had overlooked - the sure and certain knowledge that no Shabogan servant girl could possibly be attuned enough to the Web of Time to dance the steps of Otherstide the way Tejana was.

An avalanche of fear tumbled down on her, burying her in despair. _He knew_. It was all there in those cold, ice-blue eyes. He knew she was a Time Lady.

_Oh, gods, _she thought to herself, _you selfish young idiot, Koschei, what have you done?_

* * *

_**Another author's note: **_

_**If anyone's interested in hearing the music of the Great Dance, go to Youtube and check out the track "Blackheart" from Two Steps From Hell's album "Skyworld" - and if you can't see the Time Lords dancing out the patterns of the Web of Time while listening to that, you have no imagination X)  
**  
_


	25. Chapter 25

_**Author's Note:**_

_**Hello, lovely people. Here is an unusually quick update, hope you don't mind.**_

_**Big thanks to the following readers who have made a hard, and somewhat emotional week, a bit less difficult:- MayFairy, Ahsilaa, gallifrey calls now, EDZEL2, Celestial Valkyrie, sailormajinmoon, aquafizzy10, Sawmaniac211, MountainLord-92 (x 2), Geraldine, XXXMariellaXXX, Imorgen, Aietradaea, Lost Moon and Theta'sWorstNightmare. **_

_**To Geraldine: Thanks so much for your review, as always. Hope the speed of this update makes you smile!**_

_**To Lost Moon: Glad you think my twists are still twisty, LOL. Yeah, Tejana certainly has a knack of getting into trouble and she probably did get it from the Doctor. Unfortunately, things are going to get a lot worse before they get better. Thanks very much for the review.**_

_**Here's the chapter, ciao for now!  
**_

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**- CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE -**

_"All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing." (Edmund Burke)_

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Tejana wasn't the only one to see Borusa's face and realise that he knew the truth. Invisibly looking out over the obsidian ballroom, the Master recognised the avid gleam in his old tutor's eyes and he cursed, savagely and profusely. If the High Council found out about Tejana, the task of protecting her would become next to impossible. There was only one penalty for breaking the Fourth Law of Time. There was no excuse, no defence, no mitigation allowed. A Time Lord found guilty would be immediately executed, without exception. A wave of blazing white rage flooded through him, his perfect plan shattering into a billion pieces in front of his eyes. How had it all gone so terribly wrong? Tejana wasn't even supposed to be at the Ball, damn it all! He thought he'd made sure of that.

At first, he'd had no intention of releasing her from the safety of the dreamworld he'd created for her. His plan had been to keep her dreaming her days away, her physical body securely hospitalised in the servant's infirmary, where she would be unable to jump into any random temporal fissures that happened to show up, or generally do anything else to endanger herself or the baby. Then, when his father was dead and young Koschei was officially proclaimed the Kitriarch of House Oakdown, he would have seen to it that she was quietly transferred to his family estates, where he could shelter her until he was ready to orchestrate an official, High Council-sanctioned marriage between them.

It had been a good strategy, sound and workable, particularly given Tejana's alarming tendency to constantly get into trouble. Once he had her trapped in the dreamworld, he hadn't meant to let her go, he really hadn't, no matter what arguments she used against him. But then, at the last minute, as she had backed towards the door, she had looked at him and he had seen the faith in her green eyes. Faith in him, that he wouldn't hold her against her will. Trust, that he would never harm her. And he had hesitated. Because throughout the entire time they'd been together, he'd never seen that in her gaze before. Oh, there had been heated desire, from the very beginning, even as far back as the _Valiant_. And then, after their encounter in the Matrix, there had been a bewildered look of emerging need, as she slowly and reluctantly came to acknowledge that she didn't want to live without him. And eventually, there had even been love, intense and passionate and enduring, a look he could now never get enough of, a look that said she was his and only his, forever. But faith and trust? Not so much. Not after everything he had done in his life, all the hate and misery and devastation, all the people he had killed and maimed, all the planets he had destroyed. He had never asked her for it. He told himself he had never wanted it. Until last night, when he had unexpectedly seen it in her eyes...and, against every one of his instincts, he had let her go.

He still wasn't quite sure why he had done it. A ridiculous, uncharacteristic moment of softness, of weakness, of vulnerability? He was the Master - before Tejana had become part of his life, none of those things had even existed for him. The idea that she could have changed him that much in such a short time bothered him more than he could say. However, call it what you would, the fact remained that he _had_ done it and it couldn't be undone. She had slipped away, out of his reach until she slept again. And with that unlikely to happen before the crack was due to arrive that evening, he couldn't afford to wait. Therefore he'd had to adjust his plan accordingly.

Thinking quickly, he'd located Fionnula's room and had insinuated himself into her dreams instead, ambushing her sleeping mind just before she woke to face the day. Her mind was strong, but she was not a Time Lord, and she was no match for him. The contrast between her unconscious psyche and Tejana's had been as unsettling as it was absolute. There were no warm colours or shining horizons in the Head Housemaid's dreams. Instead, there had been long grey, metallic corridors, leading off into an endless infinity, bitterly cold and filled with hard, sharp edges. He had shuddered as he had walked down those frigid psychological passageways, because he recognised the dull, featureless walls. They were the same walls that had hemmed Koschei Oakdown in for years, crowding and constricting his own dreams, until he had realised that by becoming the Master he would no longer have to answer to anyone in the Universe but himself. They were the walls of _duty_ and he had seen more of them than he had ever wanted to. It was only with a supreme effort that he managed to resist the overwhelming temptation to smash some holes right through them, in a desperate attempt to let in some light and air. Hurriedly, ignoring the virtual perspiration that was gathering like loathing on his skin, he implanted a powerful suggestion in Fionnula's mind that Tejana should be refused permission to serve at the Ball. It wasn't as difficult as it might have been, since the idea had already been circulating around in there anyway. From what he could tell from reading her thoughts, Tejana had been publicly speaking out of turn – now why didn't _that _surprise him? – and the Head Housemaid had been seriously considering the means she should use to chastise her. All he had to do was to subtly reinforce the thought that 'Kat' had to be kept away from the Ball at all costs. Then he got the hell out of Fionnula's head, more pleased to leave those claustrophobic grey corridors behind than he ever wanted to acknowledge.

It should have worked perfectly, giving him all the leeway he needed to rid himself of his father, without any interference from his lifemate, or any chance that his revenge would put her or his child at risk. And after Lord Oakdown was satisfactorily dead, he would have had plenty of time to prevent her from leaping into the crack, keeping her here with him on Gallifrey by any means necessary.

But something had obviously gone wrong. Somehow that stupid serving woman's antiquated, rigid notions of duty had been strong enough to override his hypnotic suggestion, the unyielding grey walls in her mind shifting to close his mental instructions out. Now Tejana was here and everything he'd worked for since the crack opened in the Underhenge was under threat.

He stared down at her, watching his younger self lead her through the complex, intricate movements of the dance. It had been a long time since he had danced the steps of Otherstide. Not since he had realised what a farce it all was – all that puerile nonsense about celebrating and maintaining the balance of the Universe. He was a Time Lord. The Universe had been created to serve _him_, not the other way around. Why should he care if it was in balance or not? However, seeing Tejana's slender, delicate form matching his younger self so perfectly, as though they were two halves of a whole, he felt as if something was hurting him deep inside. He had still believed in it all back then, when he was young, with his whole life in front of him, so long ago now. He couldn't help wondering if he still would, if he'd had her to dance with all along?

He shoved the thought forcefully away, not wanting to look at it too closely. Power was all that mattered. With enough power, even the balance of the Universe would be at his discretion, subject to his whim. So many times before, he had come close to grasping it, and yet always he had been thwarted. But this time he had added incentive to succeed – the lives of all three of them depended on it, his and Tejana's and the baby's. This time, he couldn't afford to fail.

And this time, ironically enough, it wasn't the Doctor putting his schemes in jeopardy, or even Tejana herself. Instead, it was all down to his own vengeful, impulsive, adolescent self. The worst part was, he hadn't even seen it coming. And he should have. Even though he didn't remember any of this happening before, after everything he had discovered in Low Town, striking back at his father in this way was exactly what he would have done back in this timeline, had the opportunity arisen. Dancing the Great Dance with a Shabogan servant girl in the face of Gallifreyan society. He had to admit, it was both ingenious and effective, targeting Lord Oakdown right where it would hurt most – his pride in his House. His father's face was almost apoplectic with uncontrollable rage. But, until the Dance ended, there was absolutely nothing the old son-of-a-bitch could do about it except stand there and bear the humiliation. If it wasn't for the fact that Tejana was now in deadly danger, the Master would have enjoyed the moment very much indeed.

However, the fact was, she was in danger and she knew it. Surrounded by all these Time Lord minds, she was shielding harder than ever before, desperate to keep her mind hidden from the psychic link. But he was her life-mate, and complete shielding from him was impossible. Even through her intricate and expert mental barriers, he could sense her inward panic as she realised she was trapped.

His gaze shifted coldly back to Borusa. So far, the senior Time Lord was the only one who had seen it, the only one who had understood. He could still retrieve the situation. His younger self had now destroyed Tejana's anonymity completely. She would forever be notorious for being the servant girl who had dared to dance the Great Dance with the Heir of Oakdown. It would make it very difficult for their eventual marriage to be the quiet, private affair he had planned. But it could still be done. The entire political structure of Gallifrey was built on lies and half-truths – or "spin", as they had called it on Earth, during his campaign for Prime Minister as Harold Saxon. And nobody was better at spin than the Master, when he put his mind to it, even without the benefit of the Archangel Network. Before he was finished, he would have the whole Citadel dancing in the streets, joyfully celebrating their marriage.

However, first he would have to do something about Borusa. He had nothing personal against his old tutor, but he couldn't be allowed to reveal Tejana as a Time Lady to the High Council. Which meant there was only one possible solution.

Like Lord Oakdown, Borusa had to die.

_Now._

* * *

Tejana was so afraid, she could scarcely breathe. Her feet kept moving of their own accord, but the sudden, triumphant look of insight on Borusa's face had paralysed her mind, the realisation stabbing through her that soon she would once again be condemned to face Time Lord justice, through no fault of her own. _Time Lord justice! _ In her experience, the very words were a travesty. Memories of the suffering she had endured at the hands of Councillor Rohan, when she was barely more than a child, flooded back to choke her. And if they would do that to a child, there was very little they would not do to her as an adult.

The dance that had once seemed so beautiful now resembled a nightmare. There was no harmony or balance inside her head, just the dissonance and discord of fear. But she could not stop. The ring of faces surrounding the dance floor began to spin, just as the standing stones had whirled around her back at Stonehenge. But this time, the Doctor was not there to steady her. Dancing opposite her, Koschei's eyes were cold and hard, like dark blue marbles, oblivious to everything except the revenge he was effecting against his father. There was no help or comfort for her there. She reached for the older Master, hoping to find him nearby, but all she could sense was distant anger and frustration.

And still the dance went on. But now the music was drawing to a close and, one by one, the other couples surrounding them were beginning to peel away, leaving the dance floor to rejoin the crowd, as if obeying some sort of silent instruction. Up on the dais, all the senior Time Lords were on their feet, with the Lord President at their apex, their faces as smooth and as grave as stone. With a chill, Tejana realised what was happening. The other couples were being commanded to leave the floor through the psychic link. Soon, she and Koschei would be the only ones dancing. And then, when the music stopped, the crowd in front of the dais would part and the deputation of senior Time Lords would sweep towards them, bringing retribution in their wake. And that was when Borusa would unmask her for who she truly was. Frantically, she began sorting through her non-existent options. There had to be a way out of this, there had to be! There was _always_ a way out.

But nothing came to her, and still more couples left the floor, including Drax and his partner. On the sidelines, she caught sight of Ushas in her purple gown. The other Time Lady was smiling spitefully, looking forward with delight to the hell that was about to break loose. This was definitely going to be a Ball to remember!

Soon, only Theta and Melana and Rallon and Millennia remained on the floor with them, the three couples intertwining back and forth in the dance, never missing a step, with every eye in the huge, crowded room fixed on them. Apart from the soaring music, there was no sound at all. All conversation had trailed away into breathless, anticipatory silence and all that was left was the majesty of the dance. If it hadn't been so awful, it would have been strangely beautiful.

Then a look of pain crossed Theta's face, and Tejana knew he was being ordered to leave too. For a moment, he seemed to struggle against the mental compulsion, unwilling to abandon his friends to their fate. But she caught his gaze and gave her head a small shake. There was nothing he could do to help them and she couldn't risk something happening to disrupt his betrothal to Melana. Reluctantly, he swirled his fiancée back into the safety of the crowd, followed closely by Rallon and Millennia.

Tejana and Koschei were left alone, circling each other on the great, black floor, their fingers intimately entwined as the dance died around them.

"Don't worry, Kat," he whispered, the warmth of his mouth close to her ear. "I won't let them harm you, I promise. This has nothing to do with you."

Her eyes glistened with tears and she smiled up at him. _If only that were true, my love, _she thought sadly. _This really is goodbye, even if it's not quite the one I meant us to have._

With a joyful, triumphant crescendo, the music reached its peak and, with a final delicate flourish, faded away. The silence in the great hall was so complete that you could have heard a pin drop. Deftly, Koschei spun her outward until she was at arm's length from him. Stepping back, he gave her a deep, formal bow. Not to be outdone, refusing to show her fear to the crowd, Tejana raised her chin proudly, and swept him a curtsey that was both graceful and sensual. He took her hand and raised her to her feet, turning her to face the dais. Then, before she could react, he pulled her against him and kissed her passionately, both hands cradling the back of her head. Another communal gasp of shock rippled through the gathered assembly, instantly stifled, as everybody's eyes swung up to the dais.

"ENOUGH!" Lord Oakdown roared, his voice cracking out across the onyx floor like a whip.

Koschei released her, his expression twisted with contempt as he looked up at his father. "Is it, Father? Is it _really_?" he asked in a mocking voice. "I hadn't had nearly enough yet. But then, when it comes to kissing Shabogan women, I suppose you would know a lot better than me. I bow to your experience." He inclined his head coldly.

Tejana flushed with humiliation. In that moment, she could have quite cheerfully have strangled Koschei. The kiss had been intensely sexual, the sort of highly-charged caress that should only be exchanged in a bedroom, not on a dance floor in front of a thousand eager witnesses. As if they weren't in enough trouble already, did he have to go and make it worse?

President Drall cleared his throat. "Koschei Oakdown," he began pompously, obviously about to launch into a censorious speech of some sort.

But suddenly, Tejana was no longer listening. Invisible fingers stroked across her cheek and she realised that the Master was right there with her. But his touch wasn't in the least bit reassuring. It was purposeful, almost like a warning. Something was about to happen, something that wasn't good. As President Drall droned on about Koschei 'shaming and besmirching' the ancient traditions of the Time Lords, with Lord Oakdown standing on the dais at his left and Borusa at his right, her mind shot back to her meeting with the Master a few days earlier in this very room, when he had outlined his plan to her. _All I need is for an unfortunate accident to befall my father and then my younger self becomes the Kitriarch of the House of Oakdown... _An unfortunate accident. A very _public_ unfortunate accident. And what could be more public than the Otherstide Ball?

All the tiny hairs on the back of her neck stood to attention and both her hearts leaped into her mouth. Slowly, acting purely on instinct, she did the one thing she had never bothered to do when she had danced here before...she raised her eyes to the huge, shimmering chandelier that glittered right over the top of the dais. As if seeing it for the first time, she registered the long, razor sharp ornamental spikes interspersed among the crystals – the same silver spikes that she had polished so assiduously the day before. An_ accident_, just waiting to happen.

And, even as she watched, horrified, she saw every crystal on the chandelier tremble.

* * *

Briefly, the Doctor's fingers hesitated, before adjusting the sonic screwdriver to a setting he very rarely used. He was very fond of stating that the screwdriver was a tool and not a weapon, and couldn't be used to harm anyone, but that wasn't strictly true. If adjusted correctly, the device was capable of projecting a focused beam of extremely high intensity sound at its target. Theoretically, the vibration of acoustic energy imparted by such a beam could disrupt the molecular structure of the target, which would stun or kill most humanoids or do considerable damage to an object.

Ordinarily, he would prefer to cut his hand off before using the screwdriver as a weapon. But this was a Dalek and it was not only threatening his friends, it was threatening the survival of the entire Universe, if he couldn't fix things as quickly as possible. Under these circumstances, he had no choice. The only thing was, he wasn't quite sure how effective sonic waves would be against dalekanium plating. Not to mention the fact that, unlike Hart's laser, it needed to be used at close range to be effective. But if he could just get it up against the Dalek's head casing...

Crouching beside the Pandorica, he waited for the two Daleks to come nearer. He heard Hart give a shout from around the other side of the box and there was another blast of iridescent blue light, striking the Dalek on the left in a shower of sparks. It spun around furiously, smoke pouring out of its neck vents, obviously incapacitated.

"EX-TER-MIN-ATE!" the remaining Dalek screamed, returning fire in Hart's direction in a fierce explosion of sound.

The Doctor couldn't see what had happened to Hart. Even worse, at that moment, a dark shadow appeared in the doorway, carrying a torch. To the Doctor's dismay, he realised it was the museum night watchman, attracted to the Pandorica Room by the noise of the battle.

"What's going on?" the man called, flashing the thin beam of his torch around. "Who's there?"

The surviving Dalek swung around to face the new arrival.

"Get out of here!" the Doctor yelled, desperate to save the man's life, but still too far away to use the screwdriver. "Go! JUST RUN!"

But the watchman continued to hover uncertainly in the doorway, his torch held protectively in front of him.

"Drop the de-vice!" the Dalek commanded.

"It's not a weapon, it's a torch!" the Doctor said urgently. "Scan it! It's not a weapon, and you don't have the power to waste!"

The Dalek hesitated for a moment, it's eyestalk rotating up and down, as if ascertaining whether or not this was true. "Scans in-di-cate in-trud-er un-armed!"

The watchman made a noise that sounded remarkably like a derisive snort. "You think?" he inquired coldly, tossing the torch aside. At once, there was a familiar whirring of robotic servos, and in the dim light, the Doctor saw the man's hand drop down to reveal an evil-looking laser pistol. Another bolt of bright light tore through the air, impacting squarely with the Dalek's quivering eyestalk.

"Vi-sion im-paired! Vi-sion..." the Dalek whined pitifully, its voice fading to a rattling, indisticnt gurgle as its energy drained away.

The Doctor leapt to his feet and ran forward, his screwdriver at the ready in case the Dalek showed any further signs of life. But before he had taken more than a few steps, Amy was already running past him.

"Amy!" the night watchman cried, the joyful voice now clearly recognisable as Rory's.

"Rory!" she responded, throwing herself into his arms.

He buried his face in her hair, holding her as close to him as he could. "I'm sorry! I couldn't help it! It just happened!"

She tilted her head back and looked him in the face. "Oh, shut up!" she exclaimed, before pulling his head down and glueing his mouth to hers in a deep, loving kiss.

"Yeah, shut up!" the Doctor cut in, hurrying over to them. "'Cos we've got to go! Come on!"

"I waited!" Rory said, gazing emotionally into Amy's tearful eyes, totally oblivious of the interruption. "For two thousand years! I waited for you!"

"No, _still_ shut up!" she commanded in a choked voice, kissing him fiercely all over again.

The Doctor hovered anxiously, bobbing back and forth, trying to get their attention as the passionate embrace went on and on. "And break! And breathe!" he suggested, but it was apparent they still weren't listening to him.

"Well, somebody obviously didn't get out much in two thousand years," a sardonic voice commented. "Ah, young love, it's such a glorious thing!"

The Doctor looked around, only to see Captain John Hart sauntering towards him, carefully brushing off his red jacket. Little Amelia Pond followed in his wake, watching him admiringly.

"Not dead then?" the Doctor returned.

Hart smirked. "Sorry to disappoint. Bastard singed my new jacket though, if that makes you feel any better."

"It doesn't."

Coming to stand beside him, Hart eyed him closely and his wicked grin widened, as he finally had a chance to notice the fez perched precariously on the Doctor's head. "Nice hat, Doc. Suits you!"

"It's not a hat, it's a fez, I wear a fez now," the Doctor corrected loftily, straightening the tassel on his his newly-acquired headwear. "And yes, it does, doesn't it?"

* * *

Tejana had only a split second to make a decision.

The chandelier was poised to plummet to the ground. She had no doubt that it would fall in such a way that the glittering silver spikes would impale both of Lord Oakdown's hearts, preventing regeneration and killing him instantly – the Master's engineering genius would see to that. And not only Lord Oakdown. Lord Borusa also stood under the enormous monstrosity. She knew her lifemate's ruthless protective instincts well enough to guess that his old tutor would also be fatally injured, thereby keeping her safe from harm.

In the resulting horror and confusion, the scandal of the Great Dance would be forgotten. It would be declared a terrible, tragic accident. With his father dead, young Koschei would be proclaimed the new Kitriarch of House Oakdown, just as the Master had planned. And with Borusa dead, Tejana would be spared from having to face the justice of the High Council.

And all she had to do was...nothing.

Just stand back, allow the Master to have his way, let it all happen as it would. And it wouldn't even be her fault, not really. Sure, Lord Oakdown would die, but didn't he deserve to? Didn't the Master deserve this moment of revenge, after all his father had put him through? And Borusa – if Borusa died here, cleanly and painlessly, wouldn't that be better for him than living on, until the lust for power slowly corrupted his soul and he ended up encased in stone for eternity within the Tomb of Rassilon? Remembering his tortured face leering in petrified pain and fear, killing him this way seemed almost merciful.

And maybe... just maybe...she could use the panic and confusion of the falling chandelier to slip away to the Adytum when no-one was looking. Maybe, if she just let it happen, she could still escape back to her own time.

It took only a fleeting second for all this reasoning to flash through her mind like a streak of lightning, temptation piling upon temptation, justification following justification, until she was convinced she could actually go through with it.

But then her eyes dropped down from the chandelier and she saw Theta and Melana standing in the crowd, watching her. Melana was biting her lip, a worried, bewildered look on her face, and Theta had his arm comfortingly around her. Staring back at her young parents, Tejana heard again Theta's voice, referring to her father, never dreaming it was himself he was talking about: _"I wish I could meet him...then maybe I could tell him he has a wonderful, amazing and very brave daughter."_

In that moment, remembering Eleven's steady, penetrating blue-green gaze, she knew with sickening clarity that if she did this thing, she would never be able to face the Doctor again.

On the dais in front of her, Lord Borusa stepped forward, his eyes fixed on her like a smug cat watching a particularly delicious mouse, and placed his hand on Drall's arm, interrupting the President's righteous lecture, preparing to say something himself.

And far above their heads, the massive chain holding up the chandelier stretched...and strained...and _snapped_.


	26. Chapter 26

_**Author's Note:**_

_**Hello, here I am, as promised - been a while, I know. However, I have been caught up in a bit of a new project, writing a 10/OC fic called "Extraordinary", so if anyone would like to go and check that out, I would be much obliged. Also, I had a few plot hurdles to iron out in this one. However, they always come to me if I take some time out, and all is good and I'm bursting to go again now.**_

_**But big thanks to the wonderful folks who dropped me reviews since my last update: GuesssWho, EDZEL2, MayFairy, SawManiac211, Aietradaea, MountainLord-92, TheWickedHeart, gallifrey calls now, sailormajinmoon, irishartemis, Push to Shove, Guest, Geraldine, Imorgen, Marzipan, Zeroko, Theta'sWorstNightmare, BeautifulSpace (x 2) and cheesysockTejana.**_

_**To guest: Apologies that it took so long to update, hopefully the wait was worth it :)  
**_

_**To Geraldine: Oh dear, more apologies. As above, I hope the wait was worth it!**_

_**To Marzipan: Thanks so much for the review, glad you liked the 'Phantom of the Opera' moment!**_

_**To Zeroko: Welcome, lovely to have a new reviewer, I appreciate the feedback very much.**_

_**To BeautifulSpace: So sorry to hear about your lovely Nanna, Jacques Elizabeth, passing away. I hope you are starting to feel a bit better now and I'm very glad your friends are showing you love and support, that's terrific. Thank you very much continuing to read my fics when you are in such a tough time, that is very kind of you. XXX**_

_**To CheesysockTejana: Thanks so much for the review and the compliments, very pleased you are enjoying it :)**_

* * *

**- CHAPTER TWENTY SIX -**

"_Last thing I remember, I was  
Running for the door,  
I had to find the passage back  
To the place I was before.  
'Relax,' said the night man,  
'We are programmed to receive.  
You can check-out any time you like,  
But you can never leave!'"_

_The Eagles, __Hotel California_

* * *

In the end, during that tiny, pivotal heartbeat of Time, when everything stretched out and seemed to run in slow motion, the decision was not so hard to make after all.

Because, in the end, it didn't come down to morals, or ethics or doing her duty by the Universe. It didn't come down to how she felt about Borusa or Lord Oakdown. It didn't even come down to how she felt about her father and whether he would approve of her actions.

In the end, the one crystallising, deciding factor came down to how much she loved the Master.

For nine centuries, despite all the evil he had done, all the violent, murderous, abhorrent acts he had performed, he had still somehow managed to hold on to part of his soul; clinging somewhere deep inside to the essence of what had once made him Koschei, the brilliant, charismatic boy she had just danced the steps of Otherstide with so perfectly.

But if she allowed him to kill his father, if she allowed him to perform this most reprehensible of all acts, no matter what the reason, she knew with a cold certainty that the last little bit of his scarred and damaged soul would shatter and be lost forever, consumed by his own hatred. Koschei would be gone, fallen into an eternity of darkness, and there would be nothing left but the Master.

No matter what the cost, she couldn't allow that to happen; couldn't allow the man she loved to destroy himself in that way.

So she threw down every single one of her defences and opened herself fully to the psychic link, with an intensity she had never attempted before, embracing the primal potency of the collective of Gallifreyan minds surrounding her, drawing from them the fulminating energies of the Eye of Harmony, the source of all the power of the Time Lords. For a few brief, revealing seconds, her consciousness shone like a blazing star within the link, leaving no doubt in all the surrounding minds as to exactly who and what she was. And then, obeying an instinct she didn't even know she possessed, she _pushed_ with all her strength, striking out at the minds of the Time Lords standing on the dais and physically thrusting them aside to safety.

She had little opportunity to be careful or selective about her targets. Caught unaware by her onslaught, the entire group of majestic and imposing senior Time Lords scattered and tumbled like a collection of nine-pins struck by a bowling ball, many of them falling backward into the arms of the astonished crowd. Drained by her extreme effort, Tejana fell weakly to her knees in the middle of the dance-floor. Seconds later, the lethal chandelier plummeted to the ground with a stunning crash like nothing anyone had ever heard before, the deafening noise shaking the very foundations of the elegant ballroom. Shards of shattered crystal flew through the air like lucent daggers, lethal debris raining down on the suddenly screaming crowd.

Panting with exertion in the centre of the dance floor, her brow dripping with ice-cold sweat, Tejana could hear Lord Oakdown's voice rising over the uproar, shouting for calm and she knew that he was still alive. But she was given no chance to feel relief at her success. The invisible Master's fury swirled around her like a black tide, his rage and betrayal beating around her head like vulture's wings. Before she could reach out to him, to try to explain, he was gone, surging through the room in an unseen cyclone of violence, his temper exploding into a childish rampage of sheer destruction.

At the other end of the room, the other enormous chandelier also came crashing down, crushing dozens of young Time Lords beneath it, trapped as they were in the press of the crowd and unable to run.

As if on cue, all the lights went out, enveloping the vast room in an inky, fear-laden darkness. Uncontrolled panic swept through the gathering, with hundreds of people shrieking and pushing and shoving in a vain attempt to reach the doors. Tejana could hear cries of pain all around her and she guessed that many of the students were being trampled in the swelling chaos.

A hand shot out of the darkness and seized hers, wrenching her to her feet. "RUN!" someone yelled in her ear. With a shock, she realised it was Theta.

"What about Melana?" she shouted back, terrified that he had abandoned her young mother in the swirling melee.

"She's safe! I've left her with Millennia and Rallon!" he returned, dragging her along with him as he ran. "Come on! It's nearly midnight. This is your only chance. You need to get to the Adytum!"

Golden explosions of light were breaking out everywhere all around them now, like campfires glowing in the darkness. To Tejana's horror, she recognised that it was artron energy – injured Time Lords were regenerating all around the room. The sudden realisation was like a slap in the face. Despite all her efforts not to affect the causal nexus, this timeline was twisting and bending beyond repair, right in front of her eyes. She may have managed to save Lord Oakdown, and probably Lord Borusa, but there were many here she had been unable to help. Apart from the Time War itself, she had never seen such carnage and pandemonium. Accustomed to the unchanging, stagnant order that usually reigned on Gallifrey, the Time Lords had no idea how to deal with a catastrophe on this scale.

"The President!" someone shouted. "The President's been hurt – he's regenerating!"

Sure enough, a golden glow of artron energy was emanating from the wreckage of the dais, demonstrating that even Lord President Drall had not escaped entirely unscathed from the Master's fury.

Theta didn't stop to look. He just kept hauling Tejana determinedly towards the servant's exit. Unexpectedly, another set of warm, strong fingers twined around her free hand, and she realised belatedly that Koschei was also running with them, ruthlessly punching and kicking people aside, working in perfect tandem with Theta to force a pathway through the milling crowd. Immediately, Tejana saw the logic of what the two boys were doing. None of the other Time Lords had even thought of the servant's exit. They were all streaming towards the other doors, like a horde of panicked sheep.

At last they made it. Hurriedly, Theta moved to activate the door panel, only for Tejana to stop him.

"Wait!" she said urgently. "You two should go back. This has been a big enough disaster already. There's no point you getting into any more trouble over me."

Koschei pulled her roughly around to face him. "No chance, sweetheart!" he said in a hard, tense voice. "I've got no idea what just happened, but whatever the hell that thing was back there, I've got no intention of tangling with it! And as for you, we all saw what you did, when you manipulated the psychic link. Only a pure-blooded descendant of one of the Great Houses could do that. You're not a Shabogan, you're a Time Lady. And believe me, I'm not letting you out of my sight until I get an explanation."

"Not only that, to manipulate the link with that level of power and precision, you have to be a very _experienced_ Time Lady," Theta added. "You're not just any traveller, Kat, you're a time traveller. That's why you were too afraid to tell me how you knew so much about us, because you come from Gallifrey's future. You've broken the Fourth Law of Time."

_Gallifrey doesn't have a future, _she wanted to shout, stung by their evident disapproval. So ironic that these two, who would eventually become the greatest renegades Gallifrey had ever known, should be so quick to censure her actions. But midnight was getting steadily closer and she didn't have time to argue with them. So instead, she bit back her resentment and said coldly, "Yes, well done, children, you're both right, I _am_ a Time Lady. I _am_ a descendent of one of the Great Houses and I_ do_ come from the future. However, I didn't choose to break any of the Laws of Time. I came here unknowingly, through a crack in time, just like I told you, Theta. And now I need to get back the same way, to try to repair the damage I've done. But I have to do it alone – I need you two to stay here and keep out of trouble."

Theta shrugged. "Not happening," he retorted stubbornly, turning back to the door controls.

"You heard him," Koschei agreed. "When it comes to trouble, we wrote the book. Now let's get out of here!"

Before Tejana could protest any further, the door slid open and her two companions forcefully ushered her out into the corridor beyond.

"We can take a transmat tube to the Records Room," Theta said, leading the way at a run. "And from there we can work out how to get down to the Adytum."

Tejana followed close behind, trying her hardest to keep up with his long-legged stride. However, she was still light-headed from her psychic exertion and it wasn't long before she stumbled and almost fell, only to feel Koschei's arm slip around her waist, steadying her on her feet again and urging her onward.

"What the hell is an Adytum?" he demanded in her ear, as the transmat tubes at the end of the passageway came into view.

"It's an ancient crypt, dating back to the Old Times, located directly below the Records Room," she explained breathlessly. "It's where the next crack is due to manifest, at midnight. We don't have much time."

However, just as their escape seemed certain, everything went terribly wrong. Ahead of them, with shocking suddenness, three men in the red uniform of the Chancellery Guard emerged from the transmat tubes and levelled their stasers at them threateningly.

"HALT!" their Captain barked. "All three of you are under arrest, in the name of the High Council of Gallifrey!"

Theta screeched to an undignified stop, with Koschei and Tejana almost cannoning into his back as they tried to halt their momentum.

"Don't even think about trying to get away!" the Captain warned. "Or my men will fire at will."

Regaining his balance, Koschei thrust Tejana protectively behind him, before facing the Guard with all his customary arrogance. "How dare you interfere with us? I'm the Heir of Oakdown. I could have you busted down to traffic duty in the Citadel for this. Now, let us pass!"

"Ah, but perhaps the Heir of Oakdown is not aware that he is associating with a renegade and a traitor," another voice suggested smoothly. Tejana flinched as Castellan Rannex also appeared from inside the transmat tubes, his formal magenta robes flowing magnificently around him. "We've been hunting this woman for quite some time. But I knew we'd catch up with her eventually. How fortunate that Lord Borusa suspected that something untoward might occur at the Otherstide Ball and ordered extra security."

"I'm not a renegade!" Tejana spoke up, with a haughtiness that easily matched Koschei's. "And I had nothing to do with what happened at the Ball."

"Yeah, if it wasn't for her, Borusa and the rest of the High Council would have been crushed under that chandelier!" Theta agreed, stepping forward to stand beside his friend, screening Tejana completely from the Castellan's view. "I don't call that being a traitor."

"That's not for you to decide, Lord Theta," Rannex snapped. "Nor is it for me. I have my orders. If you and Lord Koschei surrender the woman peacefully, I will allow the matter to rest, with no further consequences to either of you. If not, I will ensure that you are both punished with her, no matter what your rank and station." This last was directed at Koschei, with a cold and contemptuous glare.

Theta and Koschei exchanged a glance, their eyes narrowed. For just a few seconds, Tejana caught a fleeting glimpse in their faces of the two dangerous men they were destined to become, too determined and obstinate ever to give up, even though they knew it was a battle they couldn't possibly win. Then they each simultaneously dropped into a fighting crouch.

"Come and take her," Koschei snarled.

Terror clutched at Tejana's hearts. If she didn't reach the crack before it closed, everything she had done here would be remembered, permanently altering the fabric of Time, becoming an indelible part of Gallifrey's history. If Theta and Koschei rebelled against Time Lord authority for her sake at this early stage in their careers, the entire history of the Universe would be at risk, whatever the ultimate outcome. She had to stop it happening, no matter what it took.

"No!" she yelled at Rannex, putting her hands on their shoulders, silently commanding them with all her strength to stop. "Castellan, please! They're just boys, not much more than children, playing at being heroes out of a misguided sense of loyalty. They don't know what they're doing. I'll go with you quietly, just let them go."

Theta's head swung around to her, his blue eyes blazing with fury and frustration. "What are you doing? They'll kill you, Kat! For breaking the Fourth Law of Time, they'll execute you without trial!"

"If that's what has to happen, then so be it," she said in a fierce undertone. "But I won't take you down with me, do you understand? Your timelines are too important for that! Now, as a senior Time Lady, I'm ordering you, stand aside!"

For a long moment they hesitated, and she thought that they were going to refuse. However, the ingrained submission to authority was still strong in them at this point, and at last they obeyed, reluctantly moving back to allow her clear passage through to the waiting Guard.

"Castellan, they've done what you asked," Tejana said, stepping away from her companions with her hands in the air in clear surrender. "Now give me your word as a Time Lord that if I don't resist arrest, they will not be punished for this."

"You have it." Rannex inclined his head with smug condescension, as if the outcome had never been in doubt. Tejana had to control the sudden impulse to slap him soundly across the face. "Lord Koschei, Lord Theta, you will return to your quarters immediately and remain there until further -."

All at once, the Castellan's supercilious voice cut off in mid-sentence and his eyes rolled back in his head as a mighty metallic thump rang out in the passageway. Startled, Tejana watched him crumple to the floor in an ungainly heap. Before any of the Guard could react, there was another series of mysterious thumps behind them, and they all fell unexpectedly senseless to the floor.

A new face emerged out of the shadows behind the transmat tubes. With a shock, Tejana recognised Maerl. As she stared in astonishment, he was joined by Fionnula, Dyoni and Salome. Each of them had a grim, satisfied expression on their faces, and each of them were holding a heavy cast-iron frying pan in their hands, weapons which they had obviously just put to very good use.

Tejana's knees went weak in relief. She had no idea what they were doing here, but she couldn't recall ever being so glad to see anyone in her life.

"Frying pans!" she said with a peal of delighted laughter, thinking back to her own spirited defence against the Slavetakers on Mnemosyne using Mother Hulde's frying pan. "Who knew, right?"

Fionnula frowned in disapproval at what she considered to be inappropriate levity, her manner as brisk and business-like as ever. "Wherever you were going, Kat, you must hurry!" she said. "This will not stop them hunting you, it will only delay them."

Tejana met her gaze squarely, her sudden burst of relieved mirth fading away. The Head Housemaid's face was calm and cool, as if she had just sorted out a particularly trying domestic problem in the kitchen, rather than taken down Gallifrey's Castellan and a detachment of Chancellery Guard. Time was steadily ticking away, but Tejana knew she couldn't leave without finding out why the servants had suddenly decided to take action.

"Why did you do that, Fionnula?" she asked. "Why are you helping me?"

"Because you made us realise that we can't go on as we have been," Fionnula responded gravely. "We need to stand together and take care of our own. And that's exactly what we're going to do from now on."

Tears sprang to Tejana's eyes. "That's great, it really is. But you must know by now that I'm not one of your own and I never have been."

"You made us feel pride in who we are and what we do," Fionnula said firmly, in a tone that allowed no dispute. "No Time Lord has ever done that. You will _always_ be one of our own, Kat. I don't pretend to understand whatever it is you're doing, but I know enough about you to trust that you are no traitor. Whatever you are doing, it's for the good of Gallifrey. And so we will give whatever help we can to speed you on your way." Then, as Tejana opened her mouth to reply, she added gruffly, "No more talk, child. You and the young Lords must not dally. There will be more of the Guard here before long."

"She's right, Kat," Theta said urgently, coming to stand beside her. "We have to go."

Dyoni hurried forward and gave Tejana a tight, emotional hug. "Goodbye, Kat. I know we probably won't see each other again. But thank you for everything."

Then Salome followed suit, whispering a shy "Good luck!" in her ear.

Lastly, Maerl moved towards her and, with some hesitation, held out his hand. Tejana took it, unsure exactly where they stood after their earlier argument in the kitchen. "Thank you, Maerl," she said sincerely. "I'm sorry I implied that you had no courage. I was wrong."

He gave her a funny, lop-sided smile, his serious grey eyes suddenly dancing with humour. "Looks like I found that fainting robin to help back into her nest after all," he joked, referring back to the Emily Dickinson poem she had quoted to him.

Tejana grinned back at him, suddenly liking him after all. "Yeah, I guess you did. And this particular robin is very grateful! Take care of Dyoni, won't you? And most of all, be happy!"

She took one last look over her shoulder at the small, disparate group of friends she had never expected to make, as if to memorise what she knew would be her final glimpse of their faces. Then she followed Theta and Koschei into the transmat tubes and disappeared.

* * *

Bored by all the kissing going on between Amy and Rory, little Amelia tugged insistently on the sleeve of the Doctor's jacket. "I'm thirsty. Can I get a drink?"

The Doctor rolled his eyes to the ceiling. "Oh, it's all mouths today, isn't it?" Then, as John Hart gave a lecherous grin, he added quickly, "And if you make one single salacious comment right now, Captain, you and I are going to have a serious falling out."

Hart merely raised one eyebrow in a look that spoke volumes, his grin wider and more suggestive than ever. "Wouldn't dream of it, Doc," he smirked. "Wouldn't dream of it!"

Before the Doctor could reply, the PA system sprang into life again with an audible click, and the Chaos-Master's voice sang mockingly: "_Welcome to the House of Fun, now I've come of age...welcome to the House of Fun. Welcome to the lion's den, temptation's on it's way...welcome to the House of Fun..."_

"A song by the group 'Madness'," the Doctor remarked loudly. "How very appropriate!"

The Chaos-Master laughed, the psychotic sound echoing around the room, disturbing enough even to break the passionate embrace between Rory and Amy apart.

"Oh, please tell me that isn't..." Rory began.

"It is," Hart said curtly.

Rory groaned. "I asked you not to tell me that!"

"Time to choose between the devil and the deep blue sea, Doctor," the Chaos-Master taunted. "Over and out!"

The PA system fizzed into silence again. Everybody looked at each other blankly.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Hart growled.

The Doctor shrugged. "I don't know. But at least he's stopped singing. For a minute there, I thought he was intending that to be the next torture. And believe me, I had more than enough on board _The Valiant_."

But Amy was staring past him, back the way they had come. "Doctor..." she said in a trembling voice. "The Daleks..."

The Doctor whirled around and saw the weapon on the nearest Dalek twitch, as if it was fighting its way back from a deep sleep.

"Out!" he yelled, grabbing little Amelia's hand and running for the exit. "OUT, OUT, OUT!"

* * *

Once they arrived in the corridor outside the Records Room, it was easy enough for Tejana to grab a lantern from a store cupboard and then to locate the concealed entrance to the passageways leading down into the ancient crypts beneath. For a few precious seconds, she hesitated on the dark threshold, remembering with distaste the tangle of icy catacombs that led to the Adytum. Then, knowing she had no choice, she took a deep breath and plunged through the doorway, deep into the claustrophobic shadows, keeping her mind focused by concentrating as hard as she could on retracing the route Co-ordinator Engin had shown her and the Doctor so long ago. Getting lost in here was definitely not an attractive option. Just as she remembered, the walls of the passageways were hewn out of pure stone, imposing and ancient. The air smelled stale and was freezing cold, every breath she took visible as a little white puff of condensation.

Theta and Koschei followed closely behind her, each of them also holding a lantern.

"Wow!" Koschei murmured in awe, as they went deeper and deeper, down into the very gutrock of Gallifrey. "This must lead right under the lowest parts of the Citadel. I had no idea this was even here."

Tejana didn't reply. In the future, he would know how to find the Adytum well enough. The reason Co-ordinator Engin had brought her and the Doctor down here in the first place was in an attempt to find the Master, who had been using the Adytum as a secret base from which to sabotage the Matrix. She couldn't help shivering, her hearts as cold as the icy air, as she had a sudden acute memory of the rotten, corpse-like figure they had found back then, sitting on a chair in the old crypt, apparently dead. _Her past, his future_. Was this why the Master had chosen this as his hiding place, because in his youth a girl named Kat had shown him the way down here? Yet again, the impossible timey-wiminess of her situation made her head ache. Just by being here, just by being out of her own time-line, she was bringing to pass things that in her Universe had already happened.

All at once, she felt a desperate longing for her own time-line, where she and the Master and the Doctor shared a common past, and she didn't have to hide her knowledge of what they would one day become. However afraid she was of jumping into the crack without the Master's help, it suddenly seemed immeasurably preferable to staying here.

"It's two minutes to midnight," Theta said. "How much further?"

As he spoke, Tejana saw a familiar archway looming ahead of them, opening on to the gloomy chamber beyond.

"We're already here," she replied.

* * *

Suddenly aware of the danger of the awakening Daleks behind them, the Doctor and his friends raced towards the entrance to the Pandorica room, running together in a tight, compact group.

Somewhere deep in the museum, the Doctor heard a clock strike twelve, the long bell-like chimes reverberating eerily through the deserted galleries.

And right at that moment, directly in front of the fleeing companions, a glowing line began to trace across the doorway, blocking their only exit as it slowly formed into the shape of a malevolent grin.

"STOP!" the Doctor roared, bringing them all skidding to a halt. "KEEP BACK!"

An abysmal grinding noise tore through the air, and the fissure began to widen into a gaping, greedy mouth, spilling tendrils of white fire on to the floor in front of them, where they writhed and danced like maddened snakes.

"What the hell is it?" Hart demanded.

"Another crack in Time," the Doctor responded tersely. "You wanted to know what took Tejana, Captain? Well, you're looking at it. If we get any closer to that thing, none of us will ever have existed."

Rory stared in dismay at the twining tentacles of lurid white fire, backing away from it as far as he dared. "Been there, done that! Never want to go there again, thanks."

"Wait a minute!" Amy interjected. "Tejana got taken by a crack in Time? When did that happen?"

"Back at the Underhenge. Don't worry, I'm going to get her back," the Doctor assured her grimly, his eyes dark with purpose. "Just as soon as I defeat the Chaos-Master, stop the TARDIS from exploding and repair the damage to the Universal space-time continuum."

Behind them, there was a loud humming noise, like a large generator powering up. All five of them whirled around simultaneously, only to see the eye-stalk of the lead Dalek beginning to lift.

"Re-store!" came the metallic, monotonal voice, sending chills down each of their spines. "RE-STORE!"

"Maybe you'd better add getting out of here to your 'To-Do' list, Doc!" Hart suggested, his useless laser pistol still held comfortingly in his hand, as his gaze rapidly switched between the pulsating crack blocking their escape route and the lethal threat of the slowly resuscitating Daleks. "Right now would be good!"

More manic laughter poured from the PA system. "So which will it be, Doctor?" the Chaos-Master jeered. "The devil? Or the deep blue sea?"

* * *

The Adytum, when they entered, wasn't anything special – just a small, round, empty room carved from the foundation stone of Gallifrey. But the temporal pressure building there was phenomenal. Even without the timey-wimey detector, all three of the Time Lords felt it as soon as they walked through the archway. The air felt thick and difficult to breathe, as though it turned to treacle in their lungs.

"One minute left," Theta said, turning anxiously to Tejana. "It's nearly here! Are you still sure you want to do this, Kat?"

"I have to!" she said. "There isn't any other way!"

"But what about your friend... you said you had a friend who could guide you safely home through the network of cracks! Where is he? Why isn't he here?"

Tejana swallowed hard, determined not to let her pain and sorrow at the Master's desertion weaken her resolve. Obviously, in his rage at what he considered to be her betrayal, he had decided to abandon her to her fate and carry through with his plan to gain control of Gallifrey without her. She had probably been mad to ever hope that she could mean more to him than the opportunity to rule the Universe.

"He's not coming," she replied dully. "I have to do this alone."

Before Theta could reply, a hand closed on her upper arm like a steel vice. "Oh no, you don't, my beautiful Ana," a hard, familiar voice rasped. "Because you're not going to do it at all."

Looking up, she saw that young Koschei had hold of her. He was smiling - a cold, implacable smile - and his eyes were no longer navy blue, but a hypnotic whiskey-brown.

At the same moment, the crack arrived like a roar of thunder, bursting into life in blazing glory as it split the opposite wall in half. Refulgent white light swept through the Adytum, reaching towards the three Time Lords in a hot, enticing embrace.

Theta fell back in shock, his arm up to shield his eyes from the blinding glow. But Koschei held his ground, both hands now shackling Tejana's arms, holding her back from the crack in an unbreakable grip.

"Don't do this, _amin mekhil_!" she begged, struggling against him, desperate to reach the crack. "Let me go! Please, don't make me fight you!"

"Koschei, what in the name of Rassilon are you doing?" Theta yelled incredulously. "KOSCHEI!"

But the Master ignored them both completely. Relentlessly, step by step, he began to back away from the crack, dragging Tejana with him.

"You're my wife, Ana," he snarled. "You belong to me, body and soul. Fight me all you like, but you are never going to leave! Not ever!"


	27. Chapter 27

_**Author's Note: To make up for my long delay in updating this one, here's another quick chapter! Hooray!**_

_**I would like to dedicate this chapter to the following people, who were kind enough to review the previous one: SophieQueenOfTheWorld, SawManiac211, MayFairy, sailormajinmoon, EmmaMarie (x 4), Push To Shove, Ahsilaa, silentnight, MountainLord-92, Guest, meloyelow123, Celestial Valkyrie, TheWickedHeart, Theta'sWorstNightmare, Geraldine, Imorgen and DoctorWhoFan93.  
**_

_**Big thanks to EmmaMarie for her big catch-up, you are wonderful XXX  
**_

_**To guest: Yeah, felt a bit bad about the cliffie, so here's quick update :)**_

_**To Geraldine: In this chapter, you get to see what happens with the crack, so I hope you enjoy!**_

_**To DoctorWhoFan93: Awesome, welcome on board, so great to receive your feedback. Very pleased to know how much you are enjoying it all. Writing seems to be a bit of an addiction for me at the moment, so I'm guessing there'll be a bit more from me around from time to time. Thanks so much for the review!**_

* * *

**- CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN -**

_"Midnight? Why is it always midnight?" - Shrek, Shrek 2_

* * *

Rapidly flicking through the possibilities in his head, the Doctor considered the two impossible options the Chaos-Master had faced him with. _The Devil? _– remain here with the reawakening Daleks. _Or the deep blue sea? - _risk the perils of the surging Time-fire blocking the only exit. Choosing between them was pointless, since each was equally deadly. The Chaos-Master had caught them in the perfect trap.

But then he smiled. Maybe not so perfect. After all, the one thing you should never include in a perfect trap was the Doctor.

"Captain Hart," he said. "If you're playing a game and the rules are stacked against you, what do you do?"

"Change the rules," Hart replied, without hesitation.

"Precisely."

The Doctor handed little Amelia to Amy for safe-keeping. "Stay back, you two." Then he headed back down the room towards the Daleks. "Rory, Hart, follow me."

"Follow you where?" Rory demanded in bewilderment. "What are you doing?"

"Grab a Dalek...and PUSH!" the Doctor ordered, ducking down behind the lead Dalek. "Quickly, before their weapons systems come back on-line!"

Even as he spoke, he was shoving the armoured cyborg along in front of him with all his strength, straight towards the glowing crack.

"Re-lease me!" the Dalek barked, its head casing spinning wildly. "You _will_ re-lease me!"

Seeing what the Time Lord was doing, the other two men instantly followed his example, seizing the remaining Daleks from behind and thrusting them across the smooth, polished vinyl floor like a pair of shopping trolleys. The three cyborgs were enraged, but they were still seconds away from regaining enough power to energise their operating systems, and all they could do was scream useless threats.

"De-sist! DE-SIST!"

"O-bey the Da-leks!"

"You will be ex-term-in-ated!"

With one final, enormous shove, the Doctor propelled the lead Dalek directly into the heart of the crack, before leaping backwards to safety. Pulsating tentacles of white fire wrapped around the pepper-pot shape, silhouetting it for just a few, heart-stopping seconds, and then the light flared brightly and it was gone.

Hot on his heels, panting with effort, Hart and Rory also heaved their Daleks within range of the thrashing tentacles of light, It wasn't a moment too soon, as their weapons systems blinked back into life. A sizzling laser bolt flew dangerously close to Rory's ear, zinging towards Hart's head. The ex-Time Agent ducked with practised ease and the blast struck the wall behind him with an ear-splitting explosion.

But it was too late for the Daleks. The eldritch coils of Time-Fire fastened inexorably around them and dragged them violently inside the boiling gash of light. At once, there was a vibrating, roaring, rushing sound, followed by a noise like a clap of thunder, and the crack snapped shut.

Eerie silence fell across the room. For a few seconds, nothing moved.

Then Amy said in a hushed voice, "Wow."

"Yeah," Hart echoed sardonically. "Wow. What just happened?"

The Doctor dusted himself off and adjusted his bow tie. "The only thing that can close a crack in time of that size is a complicated space-time event," he replied. "Those Daleks were survivors of the Time War, one of the most catastrophic temporal apocalypses the Universe has ever known. Believe me, they qualified."

"But...where did they go?" Rory asked.

The Doctor shook his head. "I don't know. They were wiped from Time, just like you were. Just like Tejana has been. But wherever they ended up, the really, really good part about it is, the crack has closed and they aren't here any more. Problem solved!"

* * *

Tejana knew she couldn't afford to give any quarter. Even though she was fighting the man she loved, the man she would do anything never to hurt, she kicked and bit and scratched with every atom of strength she could muster. All she had to do was to break free for just a few seconds, just long enough to fling herself across the small room into the crack. If she managed to get close enough, the Time-fire would pull her in and even the Master wouldn't be able to stop it from taking her.

But he knew that as well as she did, and he was equally determined to make sure she didn't get the chance, using his superior strength and bulk to constrain her, pulling her steadily further and further away from her goal. The light streaming from the crack was growing brighter and brighter. Something unforeseen was happening. Oh gods, she thought, was it closing already of its own accord? Was the fabric of the space/time continuum already that unstable?

"_Theta!_" she screamed in desperation. "Help me!"

Her young father hovered uncertainly, obviously reluctant to attack his best friend, still believing he could reason with him instead. "Koschei, what the hell's the matter with you? Are you insane? Let her go!"

But Koschei's expression was as cold and unreachable as a winter's storm. "Interfere and I'll kill you, Theta," he promised, the whiskey-coloured eyes old and dangerous in his youthful face.

Disregarding the other boy completely, he proceeded to wrench Tejana's arms behind her back, despite her violent struggling, forcing a scream of pain from her lips.

Theta's expression darkened. "Then you'd better do it!" he growled, launching himself forward. "If you can."

Moving like lightning, his arm wrapped around Koschei's neck in a vicious stranglehold, cutting off the other Time Lord's air in an attempt to make him loosen his grip on Tejana. _"Let go, _Kos!"

But Koschei wouldn't. The Master's will inside him was much too strong. If anything, his hands only tightened, enforcing his control over the small, slender girl in his arms. Still holding on to her, he threw himself savagely backwards, crushing Theta against the rough, stone wall behind them, grinding his shoulder into the other boy's chest over and over again. All the breath exploded from Theta's lungs in an anguished howl.

Refusing to give up, Tejana battered the heels of her soft shoes against the Master's shins, wishing desperately for a pair of good, sharp stilettos she could drive into his instep. In the meantime, Theta managed to pull back his fist and slammed it mercilessly into the small of his opponent's back, impacting heavily with Koschei's kidneys. The Master yelled in rage and pain and doubled over, bringing all three of them tumbling to the ground in messy, confused tangle of arms and legs.

Sobbing with exertion, Tejana managed to extricate herself and began crawling towards the crack. Dimly, she was aware of the Master lunging for her with a snarl like a mad dog, only for Theta to grapple with him and hurl him back, intent on winning her the few precious seconds she needed to escape.

However, to her frustration, the glistening tendrils of Time-fire seemed to be retreating, drawing back before she could reach them. The crack gaped wider and wider, stretching like a terrible open mouth. Blinking against the extreme brightness, Tejana could see three small dark shadows forming in the centre of the yawning fissure. At first she thought they were spots dancing across her vision, caused from staring into the intense white light. Then she realised that they were getting larger, like something coming closer and closer down a long tunnel.

Behind her, she could hear the Master swearing violently as he fought to break free from Theta, using every dirty hand-to-hand combat trick in the book and some that weren't. Theta was taking heavy punishment, but with the dogged determination that was typical of him, he refused to relax his grip.

"Go, Kat!" he shouted. "_Now!_ He's gone mad. I can't hold him much longer!"

But Tejana had stopped in her tracks, mesmerised by the approaching shadows, every instinct she possessed screaming in warning that things were about to get exponentially worse.

"GO!" Theta bellowed again, gasping in agony as the Master ruthlessly punched him in his previously-damaged ribs.

"I _can't_!" she cried in despair. "It's too late! Something else is already coming through!"

The shadows were solidifying now, the light running away from them like water, shapes forming out of the featureless blur. Tejana's eyes widened in horror. Very recognisable shapes. Shapes that had struck terror into the hearts of creatures across a thousand galaxies. Shapes that represented the thing she hated and feared more than anything else in the Universe.

"Oh no," she breathed, suddenly reversing direction and scrabbling backwards to put herself protectively in front of Theta and Koschei. "Oh, no, no, nooooooo!"

And, just like that, there was no more time. The crack snapped shut into a thin, luminous line, hanging in mid-air like the Cheshire Cat's grin, before disappearing altogether, taking all her hopes with it. She was once more trapped on Gallifrey, with no possible way of escape.

As were the three Time War Daleks gliding smoothly towards her, their weapons raised and ready to fire.

"_Ex-ter-min-ate! Ex-ter-min-ate!_"

* * *

Rory slammed the doors of the Pandorica Room and the Doctor used his sonic screwdriver on the lock, sealing it shut.

Hart's eyes narrowed in suspicion as he watched them. "What are you doing that for?" he demanded. "You're not expecting those tin pepper-pots to come back, are you?"

"No," the Doctor answered. "But it's better to be safe than sorry. I doubt very much that the Chaos-Master has finished playing with us just yet. He's having far too much fun."

Rapidly, he glanced around the museum foyer, looking for something else to block the door with. If the Chaos-Master did happen to find some more Daleks to send after them, just sonicking the lock wasn't going to be nearly enough.

"So, Rory," he said in the bright, conversational voice he always used when he was trying to lift morale and keep everyone's mind off the situation at hand. "Two thousand years. How did you do?"

Rory shrugged. "Kept out of trouble."

John Hart gave a derisive snort, as if he had known all along that someone as ordinary as Rory wouldn't be able to find trouble if it bit him on the ass, even if he was a plastic android. "Oh yeah? How?"

Rory shot him a poisonous glare. "Unsuccessfully," he snapped.

"That's nice," the Doctor said vaguely, not really listening. The only thing that appeared remotely useful to reinforce the door was an old-fashioned mop with a wooden handle that one of the cleaners had left behind, sitting in a corner in a grubby metal bucket. The Doctor hurried over and grabbed it, turning to face his companions with it in his hands.

Immediately, Rory's eyes lit up in sudden excitement, as if the answer to an age-old riddle had just been revealed to him. "The mop!" he shouted, pointing emphatically at the Doctor and making him jump. Then, a bit more calmly, he added: "Er...that's...how you looked all those years ago when you gave me the sonic."

Realising he had just caught up with his own divided time-line, the Doctor replied, "Right! No time to lose then!"

Still wearing the red fez and with the mop tucked under his arm, he activated the vortex manipulator and transported himself back to the only place in history he knew for certain still existed – Stonehenge. There, he found past-Rory sitting on the ground in his Roman officer's uniform, cradling a dead Amy in his arms. The young man looked up at him in astonishment, as if he was seeing a ghost.

"Rory! Listen, she's not dead!" the Doctor exclaimed breathlessly. "Well, she is dead, but it's not the end of the world. Well, it is the end of the world. Actually, it's the end of the Universe." He looked down at the mop in his hands, belatedly realising that he had forgotten to bar the door back in the museum after all. "Oh no! Hang on!"

He activated the vortex manipulator in reverse, rematerialising in the museum corridor. "Oops, sorry!" he said to his small group of companions. Without stopping to say anything further, he wedged the mop securely across the locked double doors into the Pandorica Room, holding them closed. Then he vanished again, reappearing beside past-Rory at Stonehenge.

"You need to get me out of the Pandorica," he said, getting straight to the point.

Past-Rory gave him a blank, uncomprehending look. "But you're not in the Pandorica."

The Doctor could have explained the temporal implications to another Time Lord in a few quick sentences, using the requisite technical terms. But trying to explain it so that a human could understand would probably take the next two thousand years, so he decided not to try.

"Yes, I am. Well, I'm not now, but I was back then. Well, back now from your point of view, which is back then from my point of view," he said, as simplistically as possible. "Time travel, you can't keep it straight in your head." Giving up on any further explanation, he reached into his pocket and withdrew his sonic screwdriver, handing it over to past-Rory. "Here, you can use this to open it from the outside."

The young man's eyes widened considerably, as if he was about to panic. "No, I can't! I've got no idea how to make it work."

The Doctor nearly grinned, thinking of the past-Hart who was currently skulking around down in the darkness of the Underhenge. _Oh, Rory, are you in for a treat, _he thought in amusement.

"Don't worry about that," he said aloud. "There's a man waiting down there who will help you. He's a bit of an ass...well, when I say a bit of an ass, what I really mean is, a lot of an ass...but he does grow on you. Kind of like a foot fungus, really... Anyway, the point is, he's an ex-Time Agent, so he knows about temporal technology. You might need to make a bit of effort to convince him at first, but you'll work it out. Now go."

With that, he reactivated the vortex manipulator and took himself back to the museum.

Little Amelia was tugging at the hem of Amy's jacket. "How does he do that?" she asked in an awestruck voice. "Is he magic?"

The Doctor didn't give Amy a chance to answer. "Right, let's go then!" he called, racing for the nearby stairs. Everyone followed him, only to stop at the foot of the stairs as he whirled around abruptly and faced them again. "WAIT! Now I don't have the sonic! I just gave it to Rory, two thousand years ago!"

He tapped again on the manipulator and returned briefly to Stonehenge. "Oh, and when you're done," he said to past-Rory. "Leave my screwdriver in her top pocket. Good luck!"

Another few taps on the controls and he was back on the stairs in the museum. He would never admit it to John Hart, but all this zipping back and forth unprotected through the Time Vortex was making his head swim, Time Lord or not. He couldn't help wondering how the Time Agents had ever put up with it on a prolonged basis, especially back when the Universe had not been so compact.

"Right!" He leaned forward and extracted the sonic screwdriver from Amy's top pocket. "Off we go!"

But before he'd taken more than two steps, he paused dramatically again and hurried back down the steps towards little Amelia, crouching down to her level and looking into her eyes. "Hang on! How do _you _know to come here?"

Little Amelia reached into the pocket of her duffle coat and pulled out a pamphlet with a yellow sticky note attached to it. The Doctor examined it closely. "Aaaah," he murmured. "My handwriting! Okay!"

Tossing the papers over his shoulder on to the floor, he rushed across to a nearby display stand, and seized a pamphlet out of one of the clear plastic holders. Then he crossed over to the reception desk and grabbed a yellow sticky note and a red pen. In the blink of an eye, he was standing outside Amelia's house, busily poking the note and pamphlet through the brass letterbox slot in the front door.

Next, he materialised a little later in the same timeline, behind little Amelia when she first arrived at the museum, snatching the drink she was holding right out of her hand. After that, it was back to staircase in the museum foyer, where his companions were still waiting for him.

"Here you go!" he said cheerfully to little Amelia, handing her the plastic container. "Drink up!"

Amelia stared at the drink in delight. "I knew it!" she cried. "You_ are _magic!"

"Magic or not, he's not doing my hangover any good, popping in and out like that," Hart grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose irritably. "Don't suppose you could rustle me up a few hyper-vodkas, could you, Doc? God knows, I could do with another drink right now."

Shyly, little Amelia held out her drink container to him. "You could have some of mine, if you like."

Despite the tough guy image he liked to portray, the Doctor saw the ex-Time Agent's gaze soften at the unmistakeable hero-worship in the little girl's face. For a brief instant, he was inexplicably reminded of Jack, as Hart grinned at Amelia and ruffled her hair. "Yeah? What's in it?" he asked gruffly.

"Water."

Hart gave a comical grimace, as if she had just suggested he drink poison. "Sorry, kid. Thanks for the offer, but the only time I ever intend to drink water is when fish learn to climb out of it to take a piss!"

Amy clapped her hands over the child's ears, spitting Hart with a furious glare, while Amelia giggled.

"Was it hard to learn to be this disgusting, or did it just come naturally?" Amy inquired, her voice dripping with acid sarcasm.

Hart ignored her and winked at Amelia. "She thinks I'm hot, really. She just doesn't want to admit it!"

Amy rolled her eyes and turned to the Doctor instead. "What is that thing?" she demanded, pointing at the leather strap wrapped around his wrist. "How are you doing that?"

"Vortex manipulator," the Doctor explained. "Cheap and nasty time travel. Very bad for you. I'm trying to give it up!"

She sighed in a resigned manner. "Where are we going?"

"The roof!"

Whirling around, the Doctor began to ascend the stairs again. At the same moment, there was a flash of light and a figure appeared at the top of the stairs. The Doctor stared in disbelief. It was him, identical in every single respect, except for the fact that his doppleganger had a large knife sticking out of his blood-stained chest. His double looked dully down at him for a few seconds, wavering on his feet, before he toppled and fell, rolling all the way down the stairs, until he came to rest on his back on the landing where the Doctor stood.

"Doctor, it's you!" Rory exclaimed in shock. "How can it be you?"

Without replying, the Time Lord pulled out his sonic screwdriver and ran it over the inert body of his double.

"Doctor,_ is_ it you?" Amy insisted.

"Yeah, it's me. Me from the future."

Hart took a step forward, his eyes fixed incredulously on the lethal-looking weapon protruding from the fallen man's body. "That's my knife. My knife, that's still in my boot. How the hell does it end up in your chest?"

Without warning, the future-Doctor's eyes sprang open and he heaved himself upright, before grabbing the present-Doctor and frantically whispering in his ear. Then he collapsed and fell backwards again, his eyes shut, his body limp and boneless.

Amy made a choked sound of distress. "Are you...? I mean, is he... dead?"

"What?" the Doctor responded vaguely, his mind spinning with the implications of the information his future self had just given him. "Dead?" Pulling himself together, he leapt to his feet. "Yes, yes, of course he's dead."

Climbing over the body without a second look, he began to climb the stairs, looking at his watch. "Right, I've got twenty two minutes, that's good."

"Twenty two minutes to live? How is that good?" Amy shouted at him.

"You can do loads in twenty two minutes," he replied nonchalantly. "Eat a hamburger, buy a sledge, have a bath... Come on, the roof!"

But Rory dug his heels in. "We can't just leave you here..._dead_!"

The Doctor levelled a freezing look in his direction. "Oh, good, are you in charge now?" he asked sarcastically. "So, tell me...what are we going to do about Amelia?"

Suddenly realising how quiet the little girl had been for the last few minutes, Amy, Rory and Hart all turned to look for her. The plastic drink cup lay abandoned on the floor, but there was no sign of the child anywhere.

"Where did she go?" Hart snapped, almost running back down the stairs. "Kid? Where are you? KID?"

Rory followed him, shouting the little girl's name up the empty, echoing corridors. "Amelia! _Amelia!_"

"There is no Amelia!" the Doctor said in a flat voice. "From now on, there never was. History is still collapsing."

Amy swallowed hard, her face pale in the dim light. "But, how can I be here, if she's not?"

"You're an anomaly! We all are. We're all hanging on at the eye of the storm, but the eye is closing, and if we don't do something, reality will never have happened." The Doctor hurried to the top of the stairs and glared down at them. "Today, just dying is a result. Now, come on!"

With that, he rushed away, heading for the roof. Behind him, Rory slipped off his night watchman's jacket and laid it gently over the dead man, respectfully covering his face.

Amy shook her head and wrapped her arms around herself in comfort. "He won't die!" she told herself aloud. "Time can be rewritten. He'll find a way. I know he will."

"Well, I know one simple, easy way we can stop it happening," Hart said, pulling his knife from his boot and tossing it to the ground beside the body. "If I leave this here, there's no way anyone can stab him with it in the next twenty two minutes. Case closed."

"Do you think that will work?" Rory asked hopefully.

"Dunno," Hart shrugged. "Don't see why not. We can only try."

"Come on, you lot!" the Doctor roared from up ahead. "Move it!"

Hastily, Hart and Rory ran up the stairs to join him, taking the stairs two at a time. Amy stayed on the landing for a few seconds longer, staring at the jacket-covered body, a curiously blank look on her face. Like a sleepwalker, her hand extended and she took hold of the knife, carefully concealing it out of sight inside her jacket.

"Amy!" Rory yelled from the distance.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming!" she responded, turning away from the fallen Doctor and hurrying up the stairs to catch up with her companions.

* * *

**Another Author's Note: **

** I felt very bad about leaving you with such a cliffhanger last time...so here, have another one...or two...! In the next chapter, John Hart meets up with River Song again, which should be very interesting, woo hoo!  
**

**And if anyone is looking to read an Eleven/OC story, Ahsilaa has written one called "Across Time", for which she would appreciate people dropping by for a look!**


	28. Chapter 28

_**Author's Note: **_

_**Thanks so much to the people who took time to review the previous chapter - it seems to be a very busy time of year and that just makes me even more appreciative of the readers who still remember that writers need encouragement like a plant needs water :)**_

_**So big kudos to the following folks: EmmaMarie, Celestial Valkyrie, SophieQueenOfTheWorld, SawManiac211, EDZEL2 (x 2), MountainLord-92, Theta'sWorstNightmare, MayFairy, sailormajinmoon, Imorgen, Ahsilaa, DoctorWhoFan93, DoctorDiva23, KlinicallyInsaneKoschei (so good to have you back), Beautifulspace (x 2), Marzipan and The Writing Kat. **_

_**To DoctorWhoFan93: You are more than welcome for the reply, I love to get your reviews! The Master knows that if Tejana's goes back through the crack, the Chaos-Master will kill her and his child, and he's determined not to let that happen. Now the crack is closed, Tejana will need to find another way back to the Doctor :) Plenty of Hart and River Song in this one, hope you enjoy!**_

_**To beautifulspace: Hi there, glad you are back. Hope you are feeling better now. The inspiration for Gallifrey in my story came from many places, but mostly from "The Deadly Assassin" (which you can read my version of, including Tejana, if you go to my profile page) and from the novel "Divided Loyalties". The rest came from inside my head, which is such a tangled place, it's beyond explaining, LOL. Thanks for the reviews!**_

_**To marzipan: Thanks very much for your comment on this story and also on "Because The Sadness Lasts Forever", much appreciated. For the Master, there is a very thin line between love and obsession, so he has no intention of ever losing Tejana now he has her.**_

_**Thanks also to all the people who have been reading and reviewing my new story, "Extraordinary", it's been wonderful to get your feedback on something that's so new to me!**_

_**Now, on to the chapter. I'm not sure why this story seems to go on twists and turns I don't always plan - it seems to write itself sometimes. But here it is, nonetheless.**_

_**Hope you all have a lovely Easter and enjoy the new Doctor Who episodes \O/**_

* * *

**- CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT -**

"_Time present and time past  
Are both perhaps present in time future  
And time future contained in time past.  
If all time is eternally present  
All time is unredeemable.  
What might have been is an abstraction  
Remaining a perpetual possibility  
Only in a world of speculation.  
What might have been and what has been  
Point to one end, which is always present."_

_**- T. S. Eliot, The Four Quartets**_

* * *

Pushing open the trapdoor at the top of the stairwell, the Doctor climbed through on to the roof. Outside, the sky was a dull, pale grey and the air smelt strange and heavy, as if it had been packed into a place altogether too small for it. This was the part of the museum the public never saw - the concrete rooftop, ugly and stark, covered with soot and bird-droppings, with steam rising fitfully from the heating vents. It was surrounded by other equally unattractive building tops, crowded together in an urban jungle of draped power lines and twisted pipes. Overhead, the sun blazed low in the sky, veiled in a concealing haze of cloud, bathing everything in an unhealthy orange glow.

The Doctor's eyes narrowed as he stared up at the corona of burning light. Then he strode purposefully across the roof, dodging the steaming vents, searching for something he could use to give him the answers he needed. Behind him, he could hear his three companions scrabbling through the trapdoor in his wake.

"What, it's morning already? It was midnight just a few minutes ago!" Amy exclaimed in surprise. "How did that happen?"

The Doctor didn't bother to turn around. _Amy_. He thought of the few concise words his future self had managed to whisper in his ear down in the museum foyer and his hearts clenched. Her voice reminded him that he had to hurry, because he didn't have long.

"History is shrinking," he called back over his shoulder. "Isn't anybody listening to me? The Universe is collapsing. We don't have much time."

At last he saw what he was searching for – a small satellite dish attached to a pole. Adjusting the settings on his sonic screwdriver, he leaped up beside the round, flat object, and carefully aimed the device at it.

"What are you doing?" Hart asked impatiently.

"Looking for the TARDIS."

"But the TARDIS exploded!" Rory objected.

The Doctor wrenched the satellite dish from its mounting. There was a small flash and a bang as the electrical wires were roughly disconnected. "All right then, I'm looking for an _exploding_ TARDIS."

"I don't understand!" Amy said, her tone rising in frustration. "So, the TARDIS blew up and took the Universe with it. Why would it _do _that? _ How?_"

Carrying the satellite dish, the Doctor ran past them and jumped up on to the raised edge of the roof. "A good question for another day!" he responded, gazing up into the sky. Then he turned back around, the horizon stretching like a panorama behind him, to look challengingly at them. "But for now...total event collapse means that every star in the Universe never happened. Not one of them ever shone. So, if all the stars that ever were are gone, then _what_...is that?" He gestured up at the ball of fire hanging low in the grey sky. "Like I said, I'm looking for an exploding TARDIS."

All three of their heads tilted upwards, their eyes following his pointing finger.

"But...that's the sun!" Rory said, as if he was stating the obvious.

"Is it?" Lifting up the satellite dish, the Doctor used his sonic screwdriver to amplify the receiver. "Here's the noise that sun is making right now."

A wheezing, groaning sound echoed across the flat rooftop. His three companions looked at each other in astonishment. It was unmistakeably the sound of the TARDIS engines.

"That's my ship burning up. That's what's been keeping the Earth warm."

Rory's head was on one side, his face a picture of concentration. "Doctor, there's something else. A voice."

Everyone else listened hard, but the only audible noise was the familiar grinding sound of the TARDIS.

"I can't hear anything," Hart said with a dismissive shrug.

Rory glared at him scornfully. "_Trust_ the plastic!" he retorted, indicating his ears.

Frowning, the Doctor adjusted the settings on the sonic screwdriver, intensifying the amplification. All at once, a woman's voice floated in the air. "I'm sorry, my love. I'm sorry, my love. I'm sorry, my love."

The words repeated over and over again in a sad litany, like a broken record. The Doctor felt like he had been kicked in the stomach. _It's my fault, _he thought with a shattering chill. _I told her to go and get the TARDIS... all my fault..._

"Doctor, that's River!" Amy cried, as if he had needed to be told.

Hart's head jerked up, the smirk falling from his face as his eyes shot back towards the burning orb in the sky. "_River!_" he echoed.

Amy ignored him and focused urgently on the Doctor. "How can she be up there?"

"It must be a recording," Rory suggested uncertainly.

The Doctor shook his head, his mind racing as he put all the pieces together. "No, it's not a recording." An adrenaline shot of hope burst through his veins. "Of _course_, the emergency protocols! The TARDIS has sealed off the control room and put her into a time loop to save her. She's _right_ at the heart of the explosion!"

_I'm sorry, my love... I'm sorry, my love... I'm sorry, my love..._

Throwing aside the satellite dish, he began to frantically reprogramme the vortex manipulator. If he could just synchronise it with his symbiotic link with the TARDIS, just long enough to generate some coordinates...

* * *

It kept happening, over and over again.

River connected the cables to the doors and charged them from the energy cells in the TARDIS console, glittering sparks of electricity flying around her head. Then she ran to the doors and flung them back, only to find a wall of stone facing her, sealing off any escape.

"I'm sorry, my love," she whispered, glancing back over her shoulder as the console exploded into a blazing white fury.

Only for it all to start again - connecting the cables to the doors, charging them from the energy cells in the TARDIS console, running to the door and flinging them wide, only to find a wall of stone facing her.

"I'm sorry, my love!"...the console exploding...and then she was back connecting the cables to the door again...

Over and over again, the same thing, an infinity of times.

Until, at last, something changed. Until she ran to open the doors and found the Doctor leaning nonchalantly against them, a grin on his face. "Hi honey!" he said. "I'm home!"

River looked pointedly at her watch. "And what sort of time do you call this?" she responded with an answering smile.

* * *

They materialised back on the rooftop together, arm in arm, like a couple who had just been on a romantic stroll. Despite the overwhelming seriousness of the situation, the Doctor was still smiling. Oddly enough, having River back with them seemed to make everything better, even though the circumstances hadn't actually changed.

To be honest, he still wasn't at all sure how he felt about her. To quote his good friend, Winston Churchill, she was 'a riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma'. So far, everything she had done seemed to support her claim that she would be an integral part of his future. But until he found out a bit more about her - particularly the truth of why she had been incarcerated in the Storm Cage Prison - he refused to be entirely convinced she could be trusted. The one thing he did know, however, was that he thought about her far more often than he should, even when she wasn't around. Not to mention that she had featured quite prominently in a couple of steamy dreams he preferred not to remember, in case he blushed in front of everyone. After all, he might be a Time Lord and over nine hundred years old, but he was still a man. And River was most definitely a woman. Even now, in the midst of all this trouble, he was acutely aware of her lush, curvaceous figure as she stood beside him. Oh yes, he thought distractedly, _most_ definitely a woman.

"Amy!" River exclaimed, pulling her arm from his and moving forward to greet the red-headed girl. Then she spotted Rory and her eyebrows rose. "And...the plastic centurion?"

"It's OK, he's on our side," the Doctor hastened to inform her.

With a sceptical expression, River stepped nearer to Rory, studying his face closely. "Really? I dated a Nestene duplicate once...swappable head. It did keep things fresh. Doctor, I..."

She broke off abruptly as her eyes fell on John Hart, standing just beyond the other two. To the Doctor's surprise, all the colour drained from her face in utter consternation. He couldn't recall ever seeing her quite so taken aback before.

"Tobias Wolfe!" she breathed. "What the _hell_ are you doing here?"

"Actually, I go by John Hart these days," he replied calmly. "Hello, Babe. Good to see you too."

_Tobias Wolfe? Babe? _The Doctor looked back and forth between them as they stared at each other, little prickles of irritation running over his skin. There was a sudden mesmerising tension in the air, hot and electric, poised and waiting, like a lightning storm brewing and about to break. _Babe? _By now, he was familiar with Hart's peculiar tendency to assign a nickname to nearly everyone he came in contact with. 'Princess' for Tejana, 'Blondie' for the Master (yeah, _that_ had to have gone down well), 'Julius Caesar' for Rory, 'Evil Twin' for the Chaos-Master, 'Doc' for himself. In the short time he had known the ex-Time Agent, the list was already quite extensive. He hadn't decided yet whether the habit was down to Hart's arrogance, to save him the effort of remembering other people's names, or whether it was a deliberate psychological tactic to get under their skins. Either way, it was very annoying. But for the man to be on close enough terms with River to call her '_Babe'..._what exactly did that mean?

"Call it a wild stab in the dark, but I'm guessing you two know each other, right?" he queried sarcastically, knowing it was none of his business but needing to ask the question anyway.

Neither of them replied. In fact, he wasn't sure either of them even heard him. Instead, to his shock, River took three steps towards Hart and pulled his head roughly down to her for a hungry, passionate kiss, her fingers wound tightly into his light-brown hair. Hart responded enthusiastically, his arms locking into place around her waist, holding her hard against him.

The kiss was full-on, with no holds barred, the Doctor noted with extreme vexation, with plenty of tongue action. Irritation slid suddenly into anger, a dark, resentful feeling stirring deep inside him. A feeling that, if he had been prepared to look closely at it – which he absolutely wasn't - he would have had to admit was jealousy.

"Right, OK, fine...I'll take that as a yes," he said curtly. "Why does everyone keep _doing_ that today?"

_Everyone except me. _As quickly as it had come, he pushed the traitorous thought away, ignoring the disturbing image of what it might be like to kiss River, and glanced back towards Rory and Amy, who merely shrugged, not knowing what was going on any more than he did.

At last, River broke the embrace and stepped back, still gazing up into Hart's face. He looked down at her with a smirk of purely male satisfaction. River smiled sweetly back at him.

And then she punched him hard in the jaw.

Hart never even saw it coming. He just went down like a ton of bricks, a befuddled look on his face. Amy gave a peal of laughter and Rory grinned broadly.

The Doctor, feeling oddly exultant, crouched down beside the fallen ex-Time Agent. "I suppose you're going to tell me you didn't deserve that one, either?" he asked mildly.

In the back of his mind, something stirred, some kind of distant recognition. River had hit Hart in the exact same way Rory had. The same unusually-powerful right hook. That was odd. It was rare that two miscellaneous people would have the identical physical reaction in a fight. Unless they had trained under the same teacher, which of course they hadn't, because Rory wasn't trained at all. Or if they were related, which of course, they weren't. A coincidence, then. Just a really weird coincidence.

"Oh, he deserves it, all right!" River said, flexing her hand to make sure nothing was broken. "And he knows it."

Hart glared at them both, wiping a trickle of scarlet blood from the side of his mouth. "Well, if you're going to get upset about every little thing..."

"Every little thing!" she repeated incredulously. "You abandoned me on a disabled freighter in the middle of nowhere and took off with the experimental warp drive we were there to acquire."

"Acquire?" A malicious grin crossed Hart's face. "Oh, come on now, Babe, it's not like you to be shy. Why don't you call a spade a spade? You mean 'steal'. And as for leaving you behind, that was just business, nothing personal."

River's gun was in her hand so quickly that the Doctor hardly even saw her draw it. "Then I'm sure you'll understand that this isn't personal either!"

Hart's eyes widened in sudden alarm. "Whoa, steady on. You can't just kill me."

"Why not?" she asked icily. "You're hardly going to be a loss to the Universe, are you, Tobias?"

At that point, the Doctor thought it was probably time to intervene. He didn't really think River would kill Hart in cold blood, but he had to admit, he wasn't a hundred percent sure. From the expression on Hart's face, he wasn't sure either. Gingerly, the Doctor stepped in between them, his hands raised.

"Put the gun away, River!" he said. "He's not worth it and we've got more important things to worry about."

For a few seconds she hesitated. But then she gave him a sunny smile and slotted the weapon calmly back into its holster. "Whatever you say, my love." Her eyes played over his face. The hard, intent look she had given Hart was suddenly gone and instead her gaze was warm and teasing. "You weren't jealous, were you?"

To his dismay, the Doctor felt a revealing flush creeping up from under his shirt collar. "No," he lied, self-consciously straightening his bow-tie. "Of course not. Jealous? Why should I be jealous? I'm never jealous."

"Of course you're not, Sweetie," she agreed indulgently. "Now, questions. I have many questions. But number one is this – what in the name of sanity have you got on your head?"

The Doctor's hand moved upwards until he felt the fez. In all the excitement, he'd forgotten it was even there. But he had no intention of admitting that to River. She'd already rattled him enough for one day.

"It's a fez," he said. "I wear a fez now. Fezzes are cool!"

River looked over his shoulder at Amy and raised her eyebrows. Before the Doctor could react, Amy snatched the hat from his head and threw it high into the air. In the blink of an eye, River's gun was magically in her hand again, and a laser bolt was flying with unerring accuracy towards the soaring fez, which exploded into tiny, scorched fragments drifting lazily on the breeze.

"Hey!" the Doctor protested crossly.

"Well, you wouldn't let me shoot Tobias. I had to shoot _something!_" River laughed.

Amy giggled and the two women gave each other a conspiratorial high five.

Whatever the Doctor would have said to that, he never knew, since at that moment, Hart's voice cut through the air like a knife. "LOOK!"

The ex-Time Agent had stopped nursing his injured jaw and was staring at the edge of the building behind them. Whirling around, the Doctor saw a pair of bandaged hands clinging to the parapet.

"Oh my God!" Amy breathed, as slowly the thing pulled itself into view. A humanoid shape, swathed from head to toe in filthy strips of linen cloth, its movements stiff and ungainly.

"What is it?" River demanded. "Doctor?"

"It's a mummy! An Egyptian mummy, from the North Africa display downstairs!" he bit out. "The light from the Pandorica is bringing them back to life!"

More hands were appearing now, more cadaverous figures pulling themselves up and over the edge of the roof.

"They're on the other side too!" Rory shouted. "They're climbing up the fire escapes! There's dozens of them."

It was like a scene out of a classic horror movie, the shuffling mummies bearing down on them, their arms outstretched, bandages dangling loosely. Just the sort of thing that would appeal to the Chaos-Master's twisted sense of humour, the Doctor guessed. He could almost hear the creature laughing from here. There was only one way out, and that was to retreat back down into the building.

"Run! RUN!" he shouted, pushing his companions in front of him, herding them back to the stairwell they had originally come up. "Move! Move! Come on, go!"

But River twisted aside, her blaster pistol already firing. Several mummies fell backwards over the edge of the building and disappeared, only to be replaced by more scrabbling up the fire escape.

"Like I said, Doctor, I have to shoot something!" she said brightly. "Now get going! Do whatever it is you have to do! I'll cover your escape."

"_We'll _cover your escape!" Hart said suddenly. He was on his feet, a long length of steel pipe in his good hand. Then, at River's glare, he swished the pipe through the air with a whistling sound, and added with a mocking grin, " You don't seriously think I'm going to let you have all the fun, Babe?"

"You're injured already!" she snapped, flicking her eyes towards his sling.

"Never stopped me before!" he laughed over his shoulder, before wading out into the fray, swinging the pipe one-handed in a lethal circle around him.

River fired a few more well-placed shots, picking off the front-running mummies. "Doctor, you have to go, NOW!"

Knowing he had no choice, his hearts heavy, the Doctor went, pulling a reluctant Amy and Rory with him, back down the stairs.

Back to where the Chaos-Master was waiting for him.

Back for the final confrontation.

* * *

_She had nothing._

The desolate thought echoed through Tejana's hearts as she watched the three deadly shapes gliding smoothly towards her, their weapons aimed and ready to fire. _Daleks. _Her greatest enemy - her greatest fear, her greatest hatred – the loathsome creatures who had changed her forever from the person she had once been.

Somehow, these three had accomplished the one thing the entire Dalek fleet had never managed during the length of the Time War, the one thing that countless numbers of her people had courageously died to prevent. They had used the crack to penetrate into the very heart of the Time Lord Citadel.

The horror of it nearly numbed her brain. These were Time War Daleks. Their weapons were specifically designed to kill Time Lords instantly, with no chance of regeneration. If they were permitted to escape this room, the consequences were beyond imagination. At this point in history, the Time Lords were peaceful to the point of indolence, confident in the power of the transduction barrier to protect them from all threat. They had no concept of battle or warfare. They had never before encountered the Dalek race, couldn't possibly comprehend the danger that had materialised in their midst. They wouldn't stand a chance. The Daleks would slaughter every last Gallifreyan on the planet before they could be stopped.

_Just like they did on Trion, oh gods, Trion, men, women and children, lined up to die, screaming, screaming, always the sound inside her head of the children screaming..._

Once again, she had nothing, just as she had nothing back then. No resources to fight them. No battle-TARDIS, no warp-silo, no sonic cannon, no time-torpedos, all the weapons she had used to such good effect during the War. No battle squadron, no elite strike force. Just her, armed with nothing but a single laser screwdriver, which might take out one of them, but never three, not before their laser weapons turned her into ash.

And the only back-up she had were two bewildered boys and one severely pissed-off ghost.

The Daleks slid to a stop in front of her. Raising her chin, she straightened her back and stood proudly. She had no doubt that they would exterminate her. But she refused to cower before them like a frightened child. She would happily die before she did that.

"Our sen-sors in-di-cate we have un-der-gone a spa-tial and tem-por-al shift," the lead Dalek barked. "You will tell us where we are."

Tejana's eyes widened as the implications of the demand sank in, a small ray of hope penetrating her despair. They didn't know where they were. They had no idea they were on Gallifrey. She had assumed that the cracks were the result of some new Dalek weapon, part of a plan to destroy the Time Lords before the War even began. But what if they weren't? What if these three were not an advance party for an invasion at all, but had arrived here accidentally, just as she had? Maybe, just maybe, Gallifrey still had the tiniest chance, if she could only think of something. _Damn it, Tejana, think! THINK!_

"And why would I want to do that?" she asked coolly, trying to buy herself some time.

"We are the Da-leks. We are su-preme. You will o-bey, or you will be ex-term-in-at-ed!"

_Kat, what's going on? _Theta's voice asked in her head, making use of the psychic link for the first time since he had discovered she was a Time Lady. _What the hell ARE these things?_

_They're Daleks, _she responded harshly. _The most efficient and lethal killing-machines in the Universe. Stay quiet. You need to let me handle this, or history itself may be destroyed. Do NOT speak. Do NOT move. Do NOT draw attention to yourselves, either of you. Do you understand me?_

_Yes, I understand, _he said, curiosity and reluctance in every nuance of his mental voice.

Koschei had stopped fighting Theta as soon as the crack snapped shut. Tejana wasn't sure whether the Master was still possessing his body or not, and she didn't dare take her eyes off the Daleks to find out. Either way, she could only hope that Theta could manage to keep him quiet, as she had instructed. Both the Doctor and the Master were well-known to the Daleks. If they scanned Theta and Koschei and realised who they were, everything would be lost.

"If you're so supreme, you should be able to figure out yourselves where you are," she said aloud, deliberately provocative, determined to keep the attention of the intruders focused on her. "Why do you need me to tell you?"

The lead Dalek glided close to her, its sucker-arm extending and sweeping back and forth. Tejana tensed, knowing she was being subjected to a life-form scan.

"You are a Time Lord," the cyborg intoned. "You are an en-em-y of the Da-leks."

Her mouth twisted in contempt. "_All _Time Lords are enemies of the Daleks!"

But the sucker-arm continued to twitch. "No. You are...more. You are...known. Re-cords con-tain con-firm-ation of your bio-data."

Alarm seized her. She had no idea that the Daleks were in possession of her bio-scan. But there had been so much espionage during the Time War. As one of the Elite Strike Commanders, she supposed it wasn't surprising that the enemy had effectively issued a digital 'wanted poster' on her. Any moment now, the Dalek would make the connection, figure out that she was the Doctor's daughter, and it would all be over.

But, strangely enough, the identification, when it came, did not centre around the Doctor at all. A hologram, evidently generated by a small projector located on the Dalek's outer casing, sprang into life before her. It was a tall, slender girl, with short, ragged nut-brown hair, wearing a well-fitting grey combat suit. Her face was taut and grim, her hazel eyes filled with hate and determination. The stone cold eyes of a remorseless killer. Tejana caught her breath. This was how she had looked during the Time War. This was the part of her life she had tried so hard to forget.

"Your face has changed, but the bio-scan does not lie. You are the Exe-cution-er," the Dalek announced.

Tejana blinked in surprise. "I'm the what now? I think you'd better check your records again. You've made some sort of mistake. I've never even heard that name before."

"There is no mis-take. You are known. The Da-leks give titles to on-ly the great-est of their en-em-ies. You are the off-spring of the Time Lord known as the Pred-a-tor. You have slain thous-ands of our kind dur-ing the War. You are named a-mong us as the Exe-cution-er of the Da-leks," the creature repeated inflexibly. "Your hate and your kill-ing rage are held in high es-teem. It will be a great priv-i-lege to have the hon-our of ex-term-in-at-ing you."

_The offspring of the Predator? _Staring into the hypnotic blue light of the cyborg's eyestalk, Tejana struggled hard to process what she had just been told. The Predator had to be the Doctor, obviously. She had heard of them calling him the Oncoming Storm before, but never the Predator. And she had been given a title too? The_ Executioner_ of the Daleks, no less? Once, back during the War, the name would have filled her with fierce exultation. To know that the enemy both respected and feared her would have been cause for nothing but celebration. Now, however, with those days of darkness and insanity so far behind her, it sickened her to discover that the Daleks had admired and even lauded her for her hatred and bloodlust.

_You have to destroy them, Ana, _a new voice spoke urgently into her mind. The Master. Without needing to look over her shoulder, she realised he had abandoned young Koschei's body again and had reverted back to his incorporeal form. _If you don't, they will kill you, then my younger self and the Doctor's, then they will destroy all of Gallifrey._

_Yes, well, thanks for that analysis, Captain Obvious! _she shot back furiously. _But I'd actually figured that much out for myself. I don't suppose you've got any suggestions? Unless you think I can just bore them to death with my scintillating conversational skills?_

_The psychic link, _he responded. _You need to use it as a weapon._

A cold feeling of dread crept across the back of her neck. _That's impossible. I've never used it to harm anyone. I can't...I just can't._

_You must. You need to draw on the power of the Eye of Harmony, focus the energy of the other Gallifreyan minds around you, just as you did back in the ballroom. And then you need to use it to kill._

Ice seemed to be creeping over her hearts. Her psychic ability had always been her one main talent, the thing she was best at. When she was a tiny child, before he had run away from Gallifrey, the Doctor had always taught her that it was a gift that brought with it an enormous amount of responsibility. It needed to be used only in the right way, never for the purposes of evil. _Above all, do no harm. _She had stuck scrupulously to that rule all her life. The idea of using her gift to kill - even to kill Daleks - brought with it such a wave of revulsion that she felt weak at the knees.

_I can't._

_Listen to me, Ana, _he urged._ I will give you all the help I can, but I can't do it for you. Think how much it cost the Doctor to use the Moment to end the War. If you don't do this now, all of that will be for nothing. The Daleks will win before any of it even begins. You need to rip their consciousness from the Pathweb and force them to self-destruct._

The Pathweb. Of course. It was a telepathic link, the unnaturally shared intelligence of the Daleks, containing information on their history and experiences. When the Daleks spoke of their "records", they were always referring to the Pathweb. And being a telepathic link, it was vulnerable to psychic attack. Even here on Gallifrey, at the height of her strength, she could never hope to harm the Pathweb itself. It was much too vast for that. But she could conceivably penetrate it far enough to isolate these three Daleks. Sundered from their shared consciousness, they would not be able to function alone, and they would have no choice but to destroy themselves.

"Se-cond-ary ref-er-ence scans com-plete," one of the other Daleks spoke up suddenly. "All avail-able tri-angul-ation da-ta in-di-cates that we are on Gall-i-frey."

"Im-poss-ible," the lead Dalek replied. "The trans-duc-tion barr-ier can-not be breached."

"No err-or has been made. The spat-ial co-ord-in-ates are con-firmed."

The blue light at the end of the lead Dalek's eyestalk flickered for just a moment. Tejana had no real knowledge of the range and extent of emotions they could experience. They were different from the Cybermen, who felt nothing at all. Inside those armoured shells, the Daleks were living organisms, genetically mutated to feel nothing but hatred and contempt for any other race apart from their own. They were not supposed to react as individuals, but as representatives of the whole. However, these three had just been given an opportunity no other Dalek had ever been granted in the history of the Universe – the chance to rampage across Gallifrey herself, killing as they went. She could almost see the personal triumph and glee glaring in that cold blue light.

"Gall-i-frey will be claimed for the Da-lek Em-pire!" the leader exulted. "All Time Lords will be ex-term-in-ated! The Da-leks will reign su-preme and none shall stand a-gainst us!"

"EX-TERM-IN-ATE! EX-TERM-IN-ATE! EX-TERM-IN-ATE!" the other two echoed, their voices rising, the sound deafening in the small room.

Something twisted painfully inside Tejana and snapped. The screams from the dead of Trion rose in her ears again. There was no choice. There had never been any choice.

"Do you_ really _think I'll just stand by and let you destroy everything I love?" she asked. "I allowed you to do it to me once before. But not again. Not _ever_ again."

"You are not a threat," the Dalek responded with iron confidence. "You have no weap-on. You are un-armed."

Tejana closed her eyes and began to summon her strength. "Ah, but you've forgotten," she said coldly. "I am the Executioner."

* * *

_All at once, inside her mind, she was standing in a field of fire. Orange and gold flames leapt around her, higher and higher, hot and scorching, pulsing with power. In her hands, point downwards to the ground, rested an enormous sword, double-edged and glittering silver. It was heavy, as heavy as sorrow, weighted down with regret and guilt. But she knew that somehow she had to lift it. Striving to feel the undiluted presence of the Eye of Harmony. Fighting to draw to her the psychic energy she needed to raise the gleaming blade. It was the same struggle she had undergone on the ballroom floor, but harder, so much harder, because this time she was calling the power not to save, but to kill. Not accidentally, or in the heat of battle, but deliberately, in cold blood. Even as the thought came to her, the sword seemed to get heavier still, as if defying any possibility that she could ever lift it, the shine of the blade going dull._

I can't think like this_, she told herself frantically, knowing she was fast running out of time. She was the last frail protection Gallifrey had. Somewhere outside herself, she could sense the Daleks raising their weapons, ready to incinerate her. _ I need to become what I was back during the Time War. I need to BE the Executioner of the Daleks.

_However, try as she might, she couldn't do it, couldn't force herself to lift the sword. She could hear them now, hear their harsh inhuman cries, penetrating from the outside through her psychic barriers, "EX-TER-MIN-ATE! EX-TER-MIN-ATE THE EXE-CUT-ION-ER! EX-TER-MIN-ATE!"_

_Defeat and despair crowded around her. She was going to fail, just as she had failed on Trion. And this time, it wasn't the fate of one small, insignificant planet hanging in the balance. This time, she alone would be responsible for the demise of the Universe._

_But then she felt it, the presence behind her, the arms coming around her._

"_You're not alone, Ana, not any more."_

_His voice, calming and reassuring her. His hands on hers, wrapping around the terrible sword, sharing the burden with her._

"_Together," he said._

"_Together," she echoed._

_In perfect unison, his strength combining with hers, they braced themselves and lifted the sword high above their heads. Flames roared through the air, swirling around them in a corona of heat, blazing along the length of the blade, silver-sided death ripping the night in two._

"_The Pathweb, Ana," he rasped in her ear. "Quickly, you have to find it and visualise it."_

_She reached out, searching for it, feeling for it through the darkness, and just like that, it was there, sparkling in front of them like an enormous, glittering spider's web; an intricate, endless network of crystalline threads._

"_DO IT, ANA!" the Master yelled. "DO IT NOW!"_

_Summoning every last scrap of willpower, she raised the incandescent sword even higher, conflagrant with the accumulated psychic power of her people, and then brought it down, tearing the Pathweb into ragged shreds._

"_I AM THE EXECUTIONER!" she screamed, before everything spun away from her into darkness._


	29. Chapter 29

_**Author's Note: **_

_**Hello, lovely people! Big thanks to the folks who were kind enough to "water the plant" with their wonderful reviews – GuesssWho, SophieQueenOfTheWorld, MayFairy, TheWritingKat, EmmaMarie, CelestialValkyrie, MountainLord-92, sailormajinmoon, SawManiac211, Freya, Push To Shove, Ahsilaa, Imorgen, Lost Moon (x 4), TheWickedHeart, MisplacedLevity, Aietradaea (x 3), DoctorWhoFan93, irishartemis, Theta'sWorstNightmare and JantoXDrose. **_

_**To Freya – Hi there! So nice to hear from you, and believe me, your lovely comments could not have been more well-timed this week. So, let me tell you, you also SHINE! Thank you so much :)**_

_**To Push to Shove – Thanks for your review XXX. She certainly does have a name, courtesy of the Daleks, although it's not one she's particularly proud of.**_

_**To Lost Moon – I appreciate your wonderful catch-up very much, it's terrific to have you back on board!**_

_**To DoctorWhoFan93 – Thanks for the feedback! Sorry to make you wait a little while for the update, but here it is at last :)**_

* * *

_**- Chapter Twenty Nine -**_

"_Dawn has broke, the time has come,  
Move Your Feet to a Marching Drum  
We'll win the war and pay the toll,  
We'll Fight as One in Heart and Soul  
Midnight mare and blood red roan,  
Fight to Keep this Land Your Own  
Sound the horn and call the cry,  
How Many of Them Can We Make Die!"_

_Heather Alexander – The March of Cambreadth_

* * *

_The room was vast and packed to capacity. Platoon after platoon of young Time Lord warriors, proudly standing to attention, each of them dressed in black military uniforms, each of them with their eyes fixed avidly on the raised dais at the end of the room, where their leaders stood. On the wall behind the dais, an enormous holo-screen, filled with star-maps and battle plans, everything the soldiers needed to know before the Battle of the Ramah Phalanx commenced on the morrow._

_And, standing on the platform, facing her men, stood a single, slender upright figure, garbed in a grey Elite Strike Force combat suit. She looked young, in her early twenties at most, pretty and feminine, with wide hazel eyes and a short cap of nut-brown hair. But appearances could be very deceptive, as every Time Lord in the room knew. Closer examination would reveal that the pretty face was as cold and emotionless as stone, the hazel eyes hard and alert and dangerous. This was their commander, her courage and cunning against the enemy beyond all question, proven in battle over and over again. Their trust in her was absolute and they would follow her wherever she led, to the death, if that was what was necessary._

"_For too long, we have allowed the Daleks the initiative," she said, her clear voice carrying throughout the room. "For too long, we have accepted battle on their terms. But no more! Tomorrow, we take the battle to them! Tomorrow, we will teach them what going to war with the Time Lords really means! Tomorrow, we will wipe the Dalek Imperial Fleet from the sky, once and for all!"_

_A tumultuous roar of approval filled the room, a thousand Time Lord warriors cheering her words in aggressive anticipation._

_The Commander thrust her small fist into the air, her eyes glittering with bloodlust and hate. "Sound the horn and call the cry..." she shouted, repeating the savage litany she always used to inspire them on the eve of every battle. "HOW MANY OF THEM CAN WE MAKE DIE?"_

_A thousand fists rose in response, a thousand voices crying out, "HOW MANY OF THEM CAN WE MAKE DIE?"_

"_Death to the Daleks!" she screamed._

"_DEATH! DEATH! DEATH! DEATH!"_

_A tsunami of sound, the chant rising and rising, swelling and swelling, until there was nothing else in the entire Universe, just death, death to every last Dalek..._

"Kat! Kat, are you all right? Come on, you have to wake up!"

The strange voice penetrated inside her mind like a knife, the tsunami of memory receding in a sudden rush, leaving her behind, stranded and disoriented.

She moaned. Her head hurt and she didn't know where she was. She had been somewhere outside her body, back in that briefing room on board Jelpax's command ship, watching herself address her soldiers, just as she had done long ago, stirring the battle fever inside them, urging them on to victory.

Now she was lying on the stony ground and someone kept pulling at her arm and patting awkwardly at her cheek, calling out to someone named 'Kat'.

_Kat. Who was Kat? _Whoever it was, she wished they would hurry up and answer the person calling to them. Then they might stop shaking her and leave her in peace.

"Try the name 'Ana'," another voice suggested.

"Why on Gallifrey would I want to do that?"

"Well, that's what you were calling her when you had your little psychopathic fit just now!"

"For the millionth time, Theta, I've got no idea what you're talking about! There's nothing wrong with me!"

"Yeah, well, tell that to the bruises on my bruises, Kos!"

Tejana warily cracked open an eyelid and inspected the two boys leaning over her, busily bickering with each other, each of them handsome in very different ways - one dark-haired and arrogant-looking with navy-blue eyes, the other with tousled blonde hair and sky blue eyes that looked made for mischief.

Slowly, as they argued back and forth, apparently oblivious to her return to consciousness, everything began to come back to her.

_Koschei. Theta. Gallifrey. Daleks. Oh, gods, DALEKS!_

She sat bolt upright, clutching violently at their arms, startling them both. "What happened?"

"Kat!" Koschei exclaimed in relief. "You're all right!"

"Never mind me,what happened to the Daleks?"

Theta pointed solemnly behind her. "_That_ happened."

She spun around. The bottom half of each of the Daleks was completely intact, still sitting exactly as they had during her confrontation with them, their laser weapons still pointing towards her threateningly. However, of their top halves, there was nothing left. Acrid smoke seeped from the blackened, twisted casings; foul, green slime oozing and dripping from the shattered vents like blood, the gory, melted remains of the mutated, many-tentacled creatures that had once existed inside the armoured shells.

"You shouted out, 'I am the Executioner!' and then there was this tremendous..._surge_...in the psychic link," Koschei explained excitedly. "It was amazing, I've never felt anything like it before. They just seemed to overheat. They were screaming. Smoke came pouring out of their neck vents and then they exploded. You collapsed on to the floor and we couldn't wake you."

Tejana stared at the lifeless hunks of mutilated metal and felt a terrible sickness rise in her throat. _Sound the horn and call the cry...how many of them can we make die? _Somewhere inside her, an idealistic little child was crying bitterly at what she had grown up to become. She had performed the ultimate act of evil, the one thing she had sworn never to do – she had used the psychic link to kill. Yes, she had saved Gallifrey, possibly even the Universe. But the personal cost had been incalculable, her sense of loss beyond any retrieval.

"I used the psychic link to cut them off from their shared consciousness, the Pathweb," she whispered brokenly. "They can't survive independently. They were forced to self-destruct."

"So you killed them," Theta said flatly.

Tejana could hear the condemnation in his voice and hysterical laughter bubbled up through her despair. He was so young. Right now, everything for him was so black and white. He had so much still to learn about good and evil, love and hate, sacrifice and loss; and he had no idea of the choices life was going to force him to make. An image flashed before her eyes of the fire of the_ Moment_ raining from the skies of Gallifrey, incinerating everything in its path...

"I killed three of them," she replied, her voice cold and bleak. "In the future, both you and I will kill _so_ many more."

Dismayed and horrified, Theta shook his head. "No," he said passionately, the word laced with disgust. "No. That will never happen. I don't care what possible reason you might come up with, whatever happens, I will never kill! They said you were called 'the Executioner'. Is _that_ the title you chose when you became a Time Lord? Is that what we've been risking our lives for – nothing but a stone-cold killer?"

_She heard it again, echoing behind his words, her own voice, screaming out her personal catch-phrase during the War...'HOW MANY OF THEM CAN WE MAKE DIE?'_

"NO!" The word tore jaggedly out of her throat in absolute rejection of the person she had been back then, someone so full of hatred that the Daleks had come to admire her, the ultimate shame and degradation. "That's not my name. It never was my name, nor will it _ever_ be."

She struggled to get to her feet, only to fall back with an exclamation of pain, her hands clutching at her stomach as a white-hot bolt of agony lanced through her abdomen.

"Oh gods," she gasped. "The baby. Not the baby!"

Koschei caught her, easily supporting her slight weight in his arms. "Baby? _What _baby?" he demanded.

Instantly, the accusing look fell away from Theta's face, to be replaced by acute trepidation. "Kat? Kat, what's happening? Is the baby all right?"

"WHAT BABY?" Koschei repeated, more stridently this time.

"She's pregnant, Kos, all right!" Theta snapped. "She's going to have a baby. How hard is that for you to understand?"

Tejana hardly heard them, concentrating as she was on the burning screw of agony in her stomach. She had pushed herself too hard, she realised now, to the limit and beyond. Was this the price she had to pay for using the psychic link to kill? The life of her precious child in exchange for the lives of the Daleks she had destroyed?

_No, _she thought savagely. _I won't let this happen. I won't let the Daleks take this from me too!_

Desperately, fighting back the pain, she searched her consciousness for the Master. _Koschei, help us, oh gods, please help us! _But there was no response from her life-mate, no familiar stirring in her mind, nothing but an icy emptiness. She couldn't feel him anywhere. Suddenly, she remembered the surge of energy he had given her, the way his hands had wrapped around hers when she had lifted the psychic sword to sever the Daleks from the Pathweb. He had taken the brunt of the impact, shielding her from the terrible mental conflagration. _What had happened to him? Where was he? _Cold fear trickled through her hearts. Physically, he had been little more than a ghost. If she had been pushed to the limit, what about him? Had she lost him forever?

Forcing back her rising panic, she began to channel all the energy she could muster through to the baby, doing her best to stabilise his failing life-force. Her newly-regenerated body was young and strong. But after her recent mental exertions, she was so exhausted, she could hardly summon more than a trickle.

To her horror, the tiny light in the psychic link was flickering like a candle flame in the wind, teetering on the verge of going out.

* * *

Hurriedly, Amy and Rory climbed down the metal ladder leading from the roof, followed closely by the Doctor. In the distance, they could hear the muffled sound of River's blaster, firing over and over again.

"We can't just leave them up there!" Amy protested.

"Right now, they're probably safer up there than we are down here," the Doctor responded, striding away through one of the darkened museum galleries. "They've only got a few mummies to deal with. We've got the Chaos-Master."

Amy and Rory broke into a trot to catch up with him, as he wove an erratic path through the exhibits.

"How are there mummies suddenly running around the museum anyway?" Rory demanded. "Have I missed something? I know I shouldn't be surprised, since you're involved, but this place just gets crazier every minute!"

"It's the light from the Pandorica," the Doctor said tensely, without slowing the cracking pace he was setting. "Only, it's not really a light, it's a restoration field. Never mind, call it a light. That light brought Amy back. And, now that he's free, the Chaos-Master is using it to reanimate those mummies. Not only that - he also used it to bring back those three Daleks. The question we need to ask ourselves is, how could he bring back the Daleks when the Daleks have never existed?"

Amy pulled a face behind his rapidly-retreating back, guessing he already knew the answer, but unable to figure out what it might be. "All right, tell us."

"When the TARDIS blew up, it caused total event collapse. A time explosion. It blasted every atom in every moment of the Universe. Except..."

Sudden understanding lit Amy's eyes. "Except inside the Pandorica."

"The perfect prison!" the Doctor nodded. "Inside it, perfectly preserved, a few billion atoms of the universe as it was. In theory, you could extrapolate the whole universe from a single one of them, like cloning a body from a single cell. And we've got the bumper family pack."

Rory rolled his eyes heavenward. "Nope. Too fast, I'm not getting it."

The Doctor stopped dead in his tracks and spun around to face him. "The box contains a memory of the Universe," he said slowly and succinctly. "And the light transmits the memory." A wide grin crept gleefully across his face. "And that's how we're going to do it."

"Do what?" Amy demanded.

"Relight the fire! Reboot the Universe!" With that, the Doctor whirled away again, striding through the entrance into another gallery. Amy noticed that the sign beside the door read 'The Middle Ages'. "Come on!"

Amy and Rory looked at each other in bewilderment, before hurrying to catch him up again. The long gallery stretched away in front of them, dim and shadowy, full of eerie, indistinct shapes. Amy stared anxiously into the gloom. She didn't like it in here. It was creepy, full of foreboding, as if something very bad was about to happen, and she wasn't going to be able to stop it. Cold prickles ran up and down her spine. _Twenty two minutes,_ the Doctor had said_. Twenty two minutes until he died. And that time was already more than half gone._

"I still don't get it!" Rory was saying breathlessly. "So the light restores whatever it touches. Amy, a couple of Daleks, a few mummies...but it's a bit limited to the immediate area, isn't it? How the hell can we use it to restore the whole of reality?"

The Doctor paused again. "What if we give it a moment of infinite power? Transmit the light from the Pandorica to every particle of time and space simultaneously?"

"But...that's impossible, isn't it?"

"Ah, no, you see, it's not!" Reaching out, the Doctor tapped Rory on the nose in an affectionate gesture. "It's _almost _completely impossible. One spark is all we need!"

"For _what?_" the young man queried in exasperation.

"Big Bang Two!" the Doctor responded. "Isn't that right, Chaos-Master?"

From out of the darkness came the malevolent sound of a single pair of hands clapping in mock appreciation. All at once, bright spotlights blazed into life at the far end of the room, illuminating a raised platform. Blinking against the glaring light, Amy realised that it was supposed to be a historical tableau of Henry VIII, sitting on a golden throne, surrounded by his six wives. However, the waxwork dummy of the rotund king had been unceremoniously tossed to the ground, where he lay like an abandoned rag doll, with both of his arms broken off. In his place, the Chaos-Master lounged on the throne, looking completely at his ease, wrapped in Henry's ermine robes, the King's jewelled crown sitting jauntily on his white-blonde head.

"Oh, very good, Doctor!" he sneered, still slowly clapping. "Very clever, as usual. Always so good at saving the Universe, aren't you? Such a pity you won't get a chance to put your innovative plan into action!"

* * *

Theta's hands cupped her face, tilting it up to him so that her eyes met his. "Kat! Stay with me here! Tell me what's happening!"

"I've...over-extended myself," she replied hoarsely. "Destroying the Daleks...took too much energy. I need to rest, or I'm going to lose the baby." Tears streaked down her cheeks. "It may already be too late. He's only just holding on."

Theta exchanged a grim glance with Koschei.

"We can't stay down here," the dark-haired boy warned. "There's not a chance in the world the High Council would have missed what she just did. They'll know exactly where we are. And as soon as they discover the secret entrance to these tunnels, the Chancellery Guard will be on their way to arrest all three of us. We need to move, and soon. The question is, where?"

"There must be somewhere we can go!" Theta replied. "Somewhere safe, where Kat can rest, without interruption. Somewhere they won't think to look!"

Tejana winced as another devastating cramp seized her belly. Her head was swimming. Trying her hardest to stay calm, she searched her brain for a way out of this debacle. She had been in some terrible situations in her time, but never anything as bad as this. She had lost the Master – whether permanently or temporarily, she did not know. And now that the crack had closed, she had no escape route from Gallifrey. With the timey-wimey detector destroyed, and no resources available to make another one, she had no way of telling when, or even if, another crack would ever arrive. Besides, the chances of another one magically turning up before the Time Lords managed to track her down were next to nothing. Worst of all, she had now irretrievably dragged Theta and Koschei into the whole mess. The Time Lords were closing in on her. It was only a matter of time before they caught her. She knew she should send the two boys away, to distance herself from them completely, both for their own protection and for that of the time-line. But she was so weak...without their help, her unborn son was going to die. And that wasn't a sacrifice she was prepared to make. Every way she turned, the situation seemed impossible. _Unless..._

"There's only one hope left," she whispered, making her mind up. "It's a long shot, but we'll have to try it."

"What?" Theta demanded. "Tell me, Kat, and we'll do it, whatever it is, I promise."

"You need to help me get to Borusa's study. If I can talk to him...if I can make him understand...maybe he'll be able to help, before it's too late. He's our only chance!"

Her young father stared blankly at her and then flashed a questioning look at Koschei, who shrugged.

"Um, okay," Theta said dubiously. "One little problem, though."

Weary to the bone, chilled with fear for the Master and their unborn son, Tejana closed her eyes. "What problem?"

"Who's Borusa?"

* * *

Back on Earth, up on the roof of the museum, things were also not going so well. River and Hart stood back to back, fighting off what seemed like hundreds of silent, shambling mummies. Being more or less dead already, the bandaged monstrosities weren't exactly the easiest things in the world to kill. Once they were hit, they stayed down for a short time, but then they always seemed to get up again, only to rejoin the fray. At first, Hart had relished the challenge, swinging his pipe in a lethal arc, hacking away at his attackers with gusto. At his back, River fired over and over, choosing her targets with care, doing her best to conserve the dwindling power pack in her blaster pistol.

"Just like old times, right, Babe?" he yelled, slamming the pipe into the side of a mummy's head. "We always did work well together."

It was true, he found himself thinking, they always had. Their rhythms had always seemed to fit, both in bed and out of it, each of them instinctively anticipating the moves of the other, long before they were made. It was one of the things that made her so memorable for him. Their relationship had been a practical one, never based on any sort of emotional attachment. Neither of them had been looking for any more than that. But it had been good, while it lasted.

"Why don't you blow it out your ear, Tobias?" she grunted, refusing to grant him the slightest leeway, even as she protected his back.

He laughed. She was still just as sassy and spirited as he remembered. He'd always loved that about her. "You always did say the sweetest things!" he retorted mockingly, striking aside a mummy just before it could reach her.

After that, their assailants just kept coming, and he didn't have any more time to think, let alone indulge in any witty repartee. His damaged arm was aching and he was quickly beginning to tire, his previous injury bothering him more than he would ever choose to admit. It took all his concentration to keep swinging the heavy pipe.

"Holy crap, how many mummies can one museum have?" he snarled, his breath coming in short, sharp pants.

"Too damn many!" River responded shortly. "And my blaster's nearly out."

Three mummies came at Hart at once, three pairs of bandaged hands reaching for his throat. He smashed the pipe into them, but they refused to go down, no matter how hard he struck at them. And in that same moment, while he was preoccupied, two more of them rushed at River. She managed to blast one, but then her pistol jammed, and she couldn't stop the second one. In seconds, it had brutally knocked her to the ground and was looming over her. Swearing, Hart slashed wildly at the mummy in front of him and managed to catch it off balance, smashing it aside. Whirling around, he saw the mummy bending over River. Somehow, she had managed to draw a long knife from her boot and was plunging it repeatedly into the creature's belly, but it made no difference whatsoever. The walking corpse merely slapped it out of her hand. River tried to roll after it, but the mummy's hands were already around her throat, throttling her.

Hart yelled her name and leaped at the mummy. The shock of the impact tore it away from River and they crashed to the floor. He had no chance to break his fall. Landing on his injured arm, he screamed in absolute agony, black spots dancing before his eyes. To his despair, the length of pipe he had been using as a weapon flew from his grip and skittered away from him, across the ground. Twisting and writhing, he did his best to throw the mummy off him, but the creature moved with him, driving him down with its weight. He could smell the overwhelming stench of dust and filthy decay under the thing's bandages, as its left hand clamped around his throat and began to crush his larynx. Then its other hand moved. Hart had one fleeting instant to realise that it was holding the pipe he had dropped, before it thrust the long metal rod right into his belly and twisted it viciously.

Then the mummy was gone and he was left lying there, staring up at the burning TARDIS in the sky, the pipe jutting out of his abdomen. He clutched helplessly at the awful wound. There was blood everywhere, hot and sticky, pouring past his hands, soaking the brand new jacket Tejana had bought him, and pooling on the ground around him.

Somewhere in the distance, he could hear someone screaming in indescribable pain, a long, shrill howl of dying agony.

Then, in a detached sort of way, he realised that it was him.

* * *

**_Another Author's Note: I apologise for the delay in updating this one. However, I'm afraid my updates may continue to be a bit sporadic for the next little while. While I have been fairly well for the last twelve months, my latest news from my doctors has not been good, and it appears my small period of remission is now over. Nevertheless, I love my writing, and I will try to keep up with it as best as I can - I just felt it was only fair to warn you all that I might have a bit of medical stuff on my plate for a while, and therefore I ask that you bear with me. Cheers, Brownbug!_**


	30. Chapter 30

**Author's Note: Hello everyone! Thanks so much for all the people who reviewed the last chapter, especially those who were kind enough to pass on well-wishes regarding my health. You really are such a lovely bunch of people. So big hugs to the following - MayFairy, MountainLord-92, SawManiac211, Celestial Valkyrie, SophieQueenOfTheWorld, GuesssWho, Vincenth, silentnightDW, EmmaMarie, EDZEL2 (x 2), Lost Moon, Ahsilaa, Push To Shove, Beautiful Space, TheWritingKat, sailormajinmoon, Geraldine (x 3), Loki'sTimeLady, Storme22, Theta'sWorstNightmare, Misplaced Levity, TheWickedHeart, Aietradaea and Imorgen. **

**To SilentnightDW - Thanks very much for your well-wishes, that's so nice of you. And I promise Ana's baby is still alive, at least in this chapter.**

**To Lost Moon - More about John and Borusa in this chapter, hopefully will answer your questions :) **Hugs you back****

**To Beautifulspace - Thanks for the review. Good to see you have set up an account, welcome to FFN. However, your Private Messaging Facility is still disabled, so I couldn't reply to your review. Not sure if you knew about that or not, but now you do :)**

**To Geraldine - Great to have you back on board! Thanks so much for the catch-up! XXX**

**To Loki'sTimeLady - Thanks very much for the review, so glad I made you feel something, that's terrific!**

**Okay, here's the chapter, hope you all enjoy!**

* * *

**- Chapter Thirty -**

"_Sing to me the song of the stars,  
Of the galaxy dancing and laughing  
and laughing again..."_

_Only Hope - Switchfoot _

* * *

"Who's Borusa?"

Theta's question hung heavily in the frosty air of the Adytum as Tejana stared at him in disbelief, unable to take in what she was hearing, her delicate features paling in shock. Then she swivelled her eyes back to Koschei's face, desperately seeking some sort of recognition there.

"Borusa!" she repeated urgently. "_Lord Borusa!_ You _have_ to remember him! Koschei, please! He's been your tutor ever since you were both eight years old!"

Koschei shook his head blankly. "Sorry, Kat, but we've never had a tutor by that name."

"He's the Patrician of the Prydonian Chapter of the Academy!" she insisted, her hands closing on his arm tightly, as if she intended to shake the information loose from him. "He's in line to become the youngest Cardinal in Gallifreyan history, the most adept politician this planet has ever known!"

Theta took a hesitant step forward. "Kat, Cardinal Lenardi is the Patrician of the Prydonian Academy," he said gently. "He has been for over two hundred years. Are you sure you haven't made some sort of mistake? You've travelled back from Gallifrey's future – is it possible you've gotten your timelines confused?"

Hopelessness crept through Tejana's veins like slow poison. "No," she whispered. "No, I'm not the one who's confused. I _saw_ Lord Borusa less than half an hour ago, presiding over the Otherstide Ball. We all did. But now you can't even remember he ever existed. Which can mean only one thing. The transduction barrier is failing."

Theta looked at her incredulously, as if she had just spoken some sort of blasphemy. "What are you talking about? The transduction barrier is one of the triumphs of Gallifreyan temporal engineering. It's impregnable!"

Tejana gave a bitter, hollow laugh at his naivety. "Yeah, impregnable, just like the _Titanic _was unsinkable."

"What's the_ Titanic_?" Koschei spoke up, clearly not following. "I've never heard of it."

"Never mind! The point is, there has been some sort of enormous temporal explosion back in my timeline, something so colossal that it has collapsed the entire space-time continuum. The stars have gone out, entire galaxies have been erased. And the only thing that's been keeping this planet safe from annihilation has been the temporal protections built into the transduction barrier. But if people are beginning to be erased from time on Gallifrey as well – people like Borusa – it can only mean that those protections must be starting to fail."

Theta's eyes were searching her face warily now, as if he was concerned for her sanity. "_Stars?_ But there are no such things as stars. There never has been. They're nothing but a myth. Just a pretty story about lights in the sky to entertain little children."

Tejana drew in a quick, sharp breath of complete dismay, as it suddenly became clear to her the devastating extent of the damage the eroding timeline had already done to Gallifrey. For the Doctor to forget the _stars_...the shining, celestial bodies that had inspired his dreams since he was a tiny child...the thought was incredible and painful beyond bearing.

"Oh, _Theta_," she said sadly, wondering if the temporal decay had already progressed much too far to change anything. "The stars are anything but a myth. Before this all happened, they were our birthright – yours, mine, Koschei's – the song that called all three of us out into the Universe. Through crimson stars and silent stars and tumbling nebulas like oceans set on fire. Through torrents of light that scorched the skies and danced across a million horizons. Throughout all of time and space; everywhere and anywhere and beyond, limitless and free. It's all you've ever wanted. You _have _to remember that!"

For a few seconds, she could see a strange yearning Theta's gaze, as if her emotional words pulled at something forgotten deep inside him. But then his eyes clouded over with doubt and more than a little suspicion. Back in her own time stream, the Doctor would have trusted her word immediately, without question, even if what she was saying seemed impossible. But that was more than eight hundred years in the future. Right now, to Theta, she was an unknown quantity, who had effectively dropped out of the sky and torn down his world, just like the evil goblin in the Pandorica fairytale. She had broken the fourth Law of Time, one of the greatest sins a Time Lord could ever commit. She had brought the wrath of the senior Time Lords down on his head. She had used the psychic link to kill, right in front of him. And now she was telling him that his faith in the transduction barrier, something which had been nurtured in him since childhood, was misplaced. The ongoing deterioration of the timeline was twisting everything. He only had her word that Borusa – and even the stars themselves - had ever existed, and he had no way to determine whether any part of what she was telling him was even remotely true. Could she blame him for wondering if maybe her mind was disturbed? And if he came to believe she was a raving lunatic, it was only a short step from there to handing her over to the Chancellery Guard, both for her own good and for the good of Gallifrey.

She looked up into Koschei's face, but found no help there. His expression was just as wary as Theta's.

"Listen to me!" she urged passionately. "I know right now you must both be thinking I'm mad, but you have to believe me. Neither of you are time travellers yet, so you can't see the damage the cracks are doing to the Universe. Every time someone or something is erased from Time, it leaves a hole. And the Universe does its best to mend that hole any way it can, stitching the threads of history together so that the whole thing doesn't unravel. Like altering your memories to believe that Cardinal Lenardi has always been the Patrician of the Prydonian Academy. But the thing is, it never quite fits. There are always loose ends, questions we can't answer, things we can't explain. And the bigger the hole in Time, the bigger the anomalies are. Tell me, you both still remember what a TARDIS is, don't you? A T/T capsule?"

Koschei frowned. "Of course we do. Considering how much training we have to do before we're allowed anywhere near one, we're hardly likely to forget, are we?"

"So, if Gallifrey is alone in the Universe...if there have never been any stars or any other planets out there...why would our people ever need to develop space/time travel? Where would we go? What would be the point?"

"The point is..." Koschei began, and then hesitated, his frown deepening, as though he suddenly had a headache. As though he was struggling to make things add up in his brain that just didn't. "You're right. What the hell_ is _the point?"

"There isn't one," Theta interjected quietly. "Because it's an anomaly, isn't it? One big, fat, giant anomaly. Which means it's all true, everything Kat's said. The Universe _is_ destroying itself. But what can we do to stop it?"

"I'm not sure there's anything we can do," Tejana said. "Not from here, anyway. In my timeline, I'm guessing your future self will be doing everything he can to sort this out. Somehow I have to figure out a way to get back there."

"So we _do _know each other in the future!" He stared at her imperatively, almost daring her to deny it.

Tejana gave a small grimace, furious at herself. She hadn't meant to let that much information slip, but she was frightened and exhausted, and hadn't been guarding her words as carefully as she should. Besides, the way things were going, such small compromises to the causal nexus were hardly going to be an issue. She nodded silently.

Koschei's eyes narrowed in speculation. She could almost hear the thoughts tumbling around inside his head, his quick mind striving to interpret everything she had left unsaid. "And you know me too, don't you? That's why Theta and I have both felt such a strong connection to you, ever since you arrived."

_'You know me too'... _Her hearts cried at the words. _ Oh gods, if only he knew how much more it was than that, so much more! _ A sudden kaleidoscope of gut-wrenching scenes spun helplessly through Tejana's memory – she and the Master, lying together for the first time in the dying Matrix; the Eye of Orion, as he laughingly carried her over the threshold into their new TARDIS; the flower-starred meadow on Mnemosyne, when he had wound the forget-me-nots in her hair; the joyous look on his face when he had first learned about their son... _so much, much more!_

"It's complicated," she responded curtly, dragging her mind away from the staggering pain of everything she might already have lost. Thinking about the Master was only going to make everything worse. "And, as you correctly pointed out earlier, the Guard will be here soon, so we don't have time to get into it now. I still have to go to Borusa's study, on the top level of the Academy. I need to confirm that he's definitely been erased. We'll have to retrace our steps back to the Records Room and take a transmat."

Eager to avoid any further discussion, she tried to lever herself to her feet again, only to sink back with a painful gasp, as she was gripped with another agonising cramp. Without bothering to ask permission, Koschei slid his hands under her and lifted her easily into his arms, as if she weighed no more than a child.

"Fine," he said tightly. "Then let's go."

Biting her lip, she held back her instinctive protest. Something in his expression warned her that their discussion had only been shelved on a temporary basis. Now that he knew that she wasn't a Shabogan servant girl, but a high-born Time Lady in her own right, the dynamic between them had shifted somewhat. Outwardly, he was showing her more respect. But the underlying sense of possession was still there. Being held in his arms made her feel small and vulnerable, something she couldn't afford right now. She needed to be strong – for the Master, for their baby, for their future as a family. But the inescapable fact was that physically, she was incapable of walking, and she needed his help.

Theta gave his friend a quick nod and led the way out of the Adytum, back the way they had come. Koschei followed close behind, holding Tejana against his chest, her head cradled on his shoulder. Tejana closed her eyes, shutting out her claustrophobia and concentrating on the warm, soft feeling of his velvet tunic beneath her cheek, the comforting sound of his double heartbeat throbbing in her ear. If anything, the meandering stone tunnels under the Citadel seemed darker and even more stifling than before, now that she knew time and space were progressively collapsing all around them.

Fiddling around in his pockets, Theta produced his prototype sonic screwdriver and held it out before him, twisting the ceramic base until the diode at the end illuminated the tunnel with a soft blue glow.

"See, Kos, I told you it would come in handy," he said smugly.

Koschei merely grunted. "First time for everything, I suppose."

Theta chuckled and went on further ahead, carefully scouting around the shadowy corners, to make sure no-one was waiting to take them by surprise.

"You two...make such wonderful friends," Tejana said wistfully, comparing their free and easy banter with the bitter enmity with which she was so much more familiar.

"We've had plenty of practice," Koschei replied. "We've been friends since we were tiny. He's probably the most important person in my life. But don't tell him I said so, he'd only get an even bigger head than he already has."

"Heard that!" Theta said from up ahead.

"Big ears, as well as a big head," Koschei muttered.

"Heard that too!"

Despite all the terrible things that had happened, Tejana couldn't help smiling at the childish exchange. She had always known that the Doctor and the Master had been extremely close back in their Academy days, but because all she had ever known was their enmity, it had never seemed real to her until just now, witnessing it first hand. Seeing the undeniable affection between them made her realise just how much she wished her father and her lover could resolve their differences back in her own timeline – if she ever made it back there, that was.

Koschei lowered his voice even further, to make sure that Theta couldn't hear. "You're so small and light. It's like carrying a piece of thistledown." His arms tightened around her, holding her even closer to him, an intimate embrace in the shadowy dark. "You didn't tell me about the baby, Kat," he murmured accusingly in her ear.

"No," she said tautly, her voice equally low. She could hear echoes of his older self in his voice, the familiar jealousy, the familiar possessiveness, raising its ugly head. "I didn't."

"You didn't tell me, but you told Theta."

"I didn't tell him, he guessed," she retorted, determined not to let him make her feel guilty. _I would have told you eventually, Koschei...in about eight hundred years... _"And it's not as though we ever did a lot of talking when we were together, did we?"

Something stirred behind his eyes, something primitive, something savage. "Is it Harold Saxon's child? The man you told me you were promised to?"

The question was sharp and brutal, the syllables like chips of ice. Suddenly, with a chill, she found herself thinking back to his fight with Theta in the Adytum, wondering how much the Master had contributed in trying to stop her jumping into the crack, and how much had actually been down to his younger self also not wanting her to leave Gallifrey.

"Yes," she answered flatly. "Harold Saxon is his father."

"I'd like to meet him one day. We have a lot to discuss."

Even in a Universe as messed up as this one now was, the idea of Koschei coming face to face with "Harold Saxon" was timey-wimey enough to tie Tejana's brain in knots. Fortunately, she was saved from answering by Theta hurrying back towards them.

"Quick!" he hissed. "Get back to that last branch in the tunnel. The Guard are coming!"

Sure enough, from up ahead, they could hear the regular stamping noise of a platoon approaching. Swiftly, they raced back through the tunnel and took refuge in a small dark opening leading off the main passageway, leading to a much smaller, narrower tunnel that wound off into the darkness. Trying not to breathe too loudly, in case they gave themselves away, they listened to the Guards drawing nearer and nearer. As exhausted as she was, Tejana knew she had to somehow gather enough strength to screen the three of them from the psychic link. If a single member of the Guard picked up on where they were hiding, they were lost.

However, even as she wearily sought to gather her wavering concentration to access the link, it dawned on her that her effort was not required. Koschei was already screening them. Belatedly, she realised that he'd been doing it ever since they left the underground chamber. Not only that, he had been expertly manipulating the link still further, to mislead their pursuers as to where they really were.

Headed by an irate-looking Castellan, sporting a large, raised lump on the back of his head, the Chancellery Guard marched blindly past, pacing in perfect formation, without bothering to look to the left or the right, until they disappeared further up the corridor.

"They think we're still in the Adytum," Koschei whispered gleefully. "Idiots! The tiniest bit of psychic misdirection and they couldn't tell you what day it was!"

Tejana released her breath in a long, slow exhalation of relief. Oh, he was good, she thought with pride, even back this far in his timeline. Despite knowing him as well as she did, his genius still continued to surprise her. Very few Time Lords had the ability to manipulate the link to such an extent, let alone as effortlessly as he had just done it.

"Hurry up!" Theta urged, slipping back out into the main passageway. "You can do the self-congratulation thing later! It won't take them long to figure out they've been tricked, and then they'll be searching every single tunnel for us."

"Yeah, good luck with that, this place is a labyrinth!" Koschei snorted.

Nevertheless, despite Tejana's weight in his arms, he quickened his steps to keep up with Theta, until they were both nearly running. It wasn't just a schoolboy prank they had committed this time. Both of them knew it had gone well beyond that. And neither of them wanted to dwell on exactly what the consequences would be if they got caught by the Guard.

Koschei's deception appeared to have bought them the time they needed, because they reached the relative safety of the Records Room without further incident. Tejana guessed that many of the Guard were still engaged in sorting out the unprecedented shambles the Master had left behind in the Ballroom, leaving only a few isolated platoons available to search for her. Once the immediate emergency had been dealt with, she had no doubt there would be a full scale alert, and every last man would be deployed to hunt her down.

The transmat tube at the end of the corridor near the Records Room did not offer the upper regions of the Academy as an available destination. However, a few minutes tinkering with the sonic screwdriver, and Theta had taken care of that.

"Too easy!" he said with a cocky grin.

"You'd better have got this right, Lungbarrow," Koschei growled, as they took their places in the transparent tube. "I don't particularly fancy having my atoms scattered all over Gallifrey."

He placed gently Tejana back on her feet to stand between them, still keeping a steadying arm around her. She hated being so weak, but she accepted his support, leaning against him to ensure she stayed upright.

"Trust me," Theta said confidently, twirling the clunky screwdriver in the air like a conductor's baton. "I'm..."

"Theta Sigma," Koschei and Tejana chorused simultaneously, rolling their eyes. "Yes, we know!"

Fortunately, for once his confidence appeared to be well-placed, since they ended up materialising in a transmat tube almost right opposite the door to Borusa's study.

It seemed like a lifetime ago now, after everything that had happened, but Tejana had only been in this corridor that afternoon, when she had brought Borusa his usual tray of tea. Everything had been normal then. Now the passageway looked like it hadn't been cleaned in centuries. Eddies of dust drifted along the floor, grey and unpleasant-looking, continuously moving and trickling, as though it was alive.

"This place is a mausoleum," Theta said in an awed voice, looking down at the deep prints his boots were leaving on the floor behind him as he stepped away from the transmat. "Look at this dust! No-one's been here in forever!"

"That's not ordinary dust," Tejana exclaimed in distaste, holding her long skirt up, keeping it well away from the loathsome stuff as she walked somewhat shakily towards the study door. Koschei shadowed her closely, as if he was worried she was going to collapse again. "That's entropy dust. All that's left after a massive degradation of matter and energy. Like I said, the timeline tries to adjust itself, but there are always remnants."

She pushed open the door and brushed her hand over the control panel to activate the wall sconces, keeping the lights low, to make sure they didn't attract any unwanted attention. The room was exactly how she remembered it – graciously proportioned, dominated by the enormous wooden desk, the walls filled with framed artwork and shelves of rare and exotic books, all beautifully displayed. The only difference was that everything was grey and insubstantial, as though each object had been delicately sculpted from the fragile entropy dust, poised eternally between existence and non-existence, like a snapshot in time. Tejana moved carefully into the room, aware that the slightest puff of air could disintegrate any one of these artefacts into a choking cloud of dust. She looked around, taking in all the things Borusa had treasured so dearly - all the luxuries, the trappings of power he had ended up selling his soul for in her timeline. What were they worth now? _Nothing_, Tejana thought sadly. _Nothing at all._

"Wow," Theta breathed, as if he was afraid his voice would disturb the stillness. "Talk about eerie. But Koschei and I have explored every inch of the Academy in our tenure here. Why have we never been in this room before?"

"You have," Tejana replied. "Many, many times. You've just forgotten."

He was right, though. It really was creepy. The stillness. The dust. The air of desolation, as if the room was nothing more than a ghost of itself. She almost expected a spectral Borusa to appear and demand to know in his usual icy voice what exactly they thought they were doing.

Koschei wandered around the study, peering at some of the different objects on display. "Some of this stuff is amazing!" he exclaimed. "The art alone would have been worth an absolute fortune!"

"Borusa always did love his comforts," Tejana said wryly, her hearts heavy with despair and a strange sense of disappointment. She wasn't sure what she had expected to find here. Some sort of answer. Some sort of miracle, that would change everything back to the way it was. Instead, all she saw was dust and decay, a bitter premonition of what the rest of Gallifrey would soon look like if the temporal erosion could not be reversed. With a soothing hand supporting her aching stomach, she drifted across the room to the glass double doors behind the desk, keen to see if Borusa's lush rooftop garden had suffered the same fate as his study. But there was nothing to be seen. Sheer, impenetrable blackness greeted her. It wasn't just that the stars had gone. There was no moonlight either. Nothing but the obsidian curtain of night.

"Oh gods," she murmured brokenly, staring up into the empty, pitch-black skies. "Selenista Gallifreya and Pazithi Gallifreya – they're both gone."

"What's gone?" Theta asked, crossing the room to stand beside her.

"The two moons of Gallifrey. One huge and purple, the other small and copper-coloured. The event collapse has taken them as well. The cracks must be everywhere, right through the Universe. It's all falling apart, Theta. Very soon the cracks will widen into rifts, and then the rifts will..."

She broke off suddenly, an incredible thought slamming into her brain like a sledgehammer, a blinding flash of stunning revelation. "_Rifts!_"

"You already said that," Theta replied. "The cracks will widen into rifts, and then the rifts will..."

"No, you don't understand! That's the answer!" she cried excitedly. "That's how I'm supposed to get home! How old are you?"

Theta blinked at what he considered to be a completely irrelevant and bizarre change of subject. "What?"

"How _old_ are you?" she repeated. "Right now, exactly, this very minute!"

"I turned ninety, two months ago," he replied in bewilderment. "So what?"

She punched the air in jubilation, almost dancing on the spot. "Oh, _yes! _ Ninety! He just turned ninety!"

Theta simply stared at her. "O...kay. Are you sure you're not just the tiniest bit insane, Kat? What's my age got to do with anything?"

"Because, according to Gallifreyan history, at the age of ninety, you and Koschei stole a TARDIS and took a joyride to the Medusa Cascade, where you discovered and sealed a rift in time and space. You never told me exactly how you did it. But, since a rift is nothing more than a particularly large crack, you must have used a particularly complicated space time event to seal it. And the only complicated space time event you've got to hand right now...is_ me_."

Theta couldn't have looked more taken aback if she had punched him in the face. "So, you're suggesting we steal a TARDIS, travel to this Medusa Cascade, wherever that is, and just hurl you willy-nilly into any old rift we find there?"

"Yes, that's exactly what I'm saying. Don't you see? It's _supposed_ to happen this way. I'm what _makes_ it all happen. It's a circular paradox. The rift at the Medusa Cascade was always there in your history, but the reason it appears is because of the temporal explosion in the future, reaching back through time. When you use me to seal it, events will unfold just as they always have, and I'll be able to travel back home through the Rift to my own time. It has to work!"

Theta gave a long whistle and ran both his hands through his thick blonde hair, making it more tousled than ever. "I can't believe not long ago I was complaining about Gallifrey being mind-numbingly boring! That has to be the craziest plan I've ever heard. And trust me, when it comes to crazy plans, I've heard a few!"

"Even if we decided to go through with it, where are we supposed to steal a TARDIS from?" Koschei asked. "It's not like they're just sitting around on every street corner, waiting for us to take!"

"The repair dock in the Citadel!" Tejana responded eagerly. "Please, you have to understand, this is probably our only chance to change anything. We have to make sure history happens the way it's meant to! If Theta can realign the transmat, we can be at the dock in minutes. In this timeline, it's unheard of for anyone to even think of stealing a TARDIS. Security will be almost non-existent. We'll be gone before they even know we're there."

"_We_ aren't doing anything of the sort!" Theta said, eyeing her pale face with concern. "You hardly have enough strength to stand up. You said it yourself, you need to rest, or you'll jeopardise the baby's life. You and Koschei can stay here. I'll go. I can re-materialise the TARDIS back here and pick you both up."

"Oh, right!" Koschei scoffed. "The man who failed Astral Navigation three times in a row is going to single-handedly fly a ship that's supposed to need six pilots, not to mention landing it accurately enough to take on passengers. Like that's going to happen! If anyone is going to go, it should be me."

Theta's expression darkened. "You've never flown a TARDIS either, Koschei. What makes you sure you'll be so much better at it than me? Theory is a hell of a long way from practice!"

Tejana sighed. If she let them go on like this, they would still be bickering when the Universe collapsed around their ears. Some things never changed. Unfortunately, Theta was right. While she could easily pilot a TARDIS herself, she was far too weak to be able to make it from here to the Repair Dock - the baby would never survive the trip. If this was going to work, she was going to have to trust Theta and Koschei to steal a time machine for her, as inexperienced as they were.

"You both have to go," she cut in firmly. "There's no other way. Flying a TARDIS isn't as easy as you might think. You'll need to combine your skills and work together, or you'll never get off the ground."

"What about you?" Koschei demanded. "We can't leave you alone and unprotected."

She forced a smile to her lips. "I'll be fine. Everyone has forgotten this place ever existed. The Guard will never think to look here. I'll just wait for you to come back." Koschei looked like he was about to protest further, so she added quickly, "We don't have time to argue about it. Lord Borusa has already vanished. Who knows how many other people have also disappeared, without anyone remembering them or realising they're gone. And it's only going to get worse as the entropy progresses. Please, you have to hurry!"

Koschei and Theta exchanged a glance and then nodded reluctantly. In one smooth movement, Koschei stripped off his black velvet tunic and handed it to her. "Here," he said gruffly. "Put this on, Kat. It's cold up here. And try to get some rest. We'll be back as soon as we can."

Tejana took the garment and gratefully held it close to her. It was still warm from his body heat, the material soft and comforting.

"Yeah, it's going to be all right, Kat, don't worry!" Theta agreed, heading for the door. "We can do this."

Koschei paused for a few seconds, looking down into her face. Then, unexpectedly, he pulled her close and dropped a quick, hard farewell kiss on her lips, before turning away and following his friend.

Then the door closed behind them, and Tejana was left standing alone in the ghostly grey study, with only the eternally restless entropy dust for company.

* * *

John Hart couldn't have said how long he lay there, staring up at the burning TARDIS, blazing in the murky sky like the wrathful eye of God. Time didn't seem to have any meaning any more, now that his life-blood was steadily seeping away, staining the dirty concrete rooftop beneath him. There was no pain. Somehow he thought it would have been better if there was. Some kind of feeling, to anchor him to reality. Instead, everything seemed to be fading away, his vision softening to sepia around the edges.

Somewhere nearby, he could hear River screaming in rage and the sizzling bolts of her blaster pistol flying through the air. Obviously, she had managed to unjam the weapon, he thought distantly. That was lucky. As he recalled, that had always been the problem with that particular Villengard model. It tended to overheat and lock up when you needed it most. The Time Agency had stopped using them ages ago. River really needed to update her weaponry.

Then River herself was there, looking down into his face, her bright curls dishevelled and her face taut with anxiety.

"Tobias!" she cried. "Oh God, Tobias, what have you done?"

He smiled slowly up at her. He liked hearing his old name on her lips. It had been a good name, Tobias Wolfe. A good name for good times, back when he was younger and the Universe had been his oyster.

She glanced down at the bloody ruin of his stomach, and the ugly length of iron pipe jutting out of it, and her expression tightened, her cheeks suddenly ashen. Her gaze shot up again to meet his, and even if he hadn't realised how bad his wound was, he would have known then, just from the anguished look in her eyes.

"Yeah, don't tell me, I'll never play the piano again," he said hoarsely, trying to make a joke out of it. He had never taken anything seriously in his life. It seemed stupid to change that now, just because he was dying. "What happened to the mummies?"

"I don't know!" she replied. "They all collapsed, as if whatever force was animating them just evaporated."

Somewhere inside, Hart could feel a red hot coal of anger trying to flare into life, but the strange lethargy that had wrapped itself around him wouldn't allow him to feel it. "Bastard lost interest," he rasped. "We were never his intended target. It was always the Doctor."

"What bastard? Who are you talking about?"

He coughed weakly and fresh blood bubbled between his lips and gushed down his chin. "Chaos-Master."

River snatched a handkerchief out of an inner pocket of her jacket and gently dabbed at his mouth, wiping the blood away. "The Master? The other Time Lord who survived the Time War? Are you telling me_ he _did all this?"

"No, it's not the real Master," he murmured thickly. "Looks like him, sounds like him, but isn't him. During the Time War, the Time Lords built a battleship powered by stuff called psychic pollen. It extrapolates the dark side of a person's psyche and manifests it into reality. They used it on the Master." He gave a ragged laugh. "You know, I never thought Blondie had all that many good points until I met his evil twin. I helped Tejana fight it on the planet Mnemosyne. We thought we'd destroyed it, but we were wrong. That thing is pure evil, River. You have to get back to the Doctor right away. He's gonna need you."

River looked uncertainly over her shoulder at the hatch covering the stairs leading back down into the museum, obviously torn between racing to the Doctor's side and staying with Hart.

"I can't just leave you here injured like this!" she gritted out.

He coughed again, his mouth full of his own blood. "I don't think that's going to be an issue for much longer, Babe."

"Don't say that!" She forced a reassuring smile to her mouth, but he could see the tears pooling in her blue eyes. "I know you, Tobias. You're too damn stubborn to die! You'll get through this, just like you always do."

He tried to shake his head in denial, but found that his muscles would no longer respond to his commands.

"Not this time," he said with cold certainty. He knew a death wound when he saw one and so did she. There was no coming back for him from this one. "Still, it's not all bad, right? I got to see River Song crying over me. That's almost worth dying for."

"You saved my life," she said, taking his hand in hers. He wished he could feel the warmth of her touch, but his entire body was already too numb to feel anything any more. "Why did you do that?"

Ordinarily, he would have come up with a dozen seductive and suggestive responses to avoid answering that question. But what was the point of that now? He was too exhausted to bother. So, instead, he told the truth for once.

"I dunno. Maybe to even the score between us, because of what happened back on that freighter. Or maybe because someone once convinced me I could be a hero after all, even after the life I've led, and I was stupid enough to believe her. Who knows? It hardly matters now."

"Well, it matters to me," River replied. "And, whoever she was, she must have been very special."

For a moment, River's golden curls hazed in his vision, and instead he saw a waterfall of dark copper hair and a pair of laughing green eyes, heard the sweet, husky voice trailing back to him on the wind. _Thank you for being my hero, John... _Fighting against the encroaching numbness, he reached up and ruefully brushed her cheek with his fingertips. _I'm so sorry, Princess_. _I would have come for you if I could. _She smiled warmly at him and, in his growing delirium, he wasn't sure if he'd spoken the words aloud or not.

Then his vision swam again, and he realised that it was River's cheek he was touching, not Tejana's, River's tears that were falling on his face.

"Yeah," he said, his hand falling back to his side. "She was." A deep shudder ran through his body. Suddenly, he felt very, very cold. He wondered if this was how Jack felt, every time he died, as if an icy wind was blowing across his soul. He wished he'd thought to ask, back when he had a chance. In fact, he wished he'd thought to do a lot of things he hadn't.

"River?" The darkness was closing in on him now, the sepia edges of his vision blurring into shadow. He could no longer see her face, and a sudden fear gripped him that she had gone and he would die alone. "_River?_"

"I'm here, Tobias," she responded. "I'm not going anywhere, I promise."

He swallowed dryly. All he could taste was blood. _Very appropriate, _he thought, his mind drifting now, remembering how much of other people's blood he had seen in his life. _You live by the sword, you die by the sword. Or a goddamned iron pipe, in my case._

"I'm glad I bumped into you again, Babe," he whispered.

"Yeah, me too," she said in an unsteady voice. "I've been aching to give you that punch for years."

He gave a small chuckle. "I preferred the kissing part, actually."

"Yeah, that wasn't bad either."

The blackness was sweeping him away in waves now, a dark tide pulling him further and further away from the sound of her voice, dragging him out towards the unknown. Struggling against it, knowing he was losing the battle, he tried desperately to tighten his unresponsive fingers on hers.

"Listen, River, if you ever... if you ever come across a friend of the Doc's called Captain Jack Harkness, tell him from me..." _Tell him I always loved him, in spite of everything I did. Tell him I tried to make him proud, at the end. Tell him he was the last one I ever thought about. _A characteristic grin stretched his handsome face one final time, his eyes staring unseeingly up into River's face, his last words barely audible. "Tell him I said I'd see him in hell."

"I will, I promise," she said tearfully.

But he didn't hear her. He was already dead, the insolent grin still on his face.

* * *

Far away across time and space, Tejana huddled in the least dusty corner she could find in Borusa's study, Koschei's velvet tunic draped over her small form like a warm blanket, as she she allowed her mind to drift in a strange, dim twilight world, lost somewhere between sleep and wakefulness.

Suddenly, out of the mists of exhaustion that surrounded her, she felt ghostly fingers brush her cheek. For a moment, both her hearts nearly stopped beating, and she sat bolt upright, hoping against hope that the Master had returned to her. But the familiar voice she had heard whispering her name wasn't the Master's.

"John?" she called, still only half alert, peering into the darkness, trying to make sense of the shifting shadows dancing at the edge of the circle of lamplight. "John, is that you?"

But it wasn't. There was no-one there. The room was empty and she was alone.

_Of course it wasn't Hart_, she chided herself uneasily, trying to shake the hollow feeling that had inexplicably settled between her hearts. _How could it possibly be?_ He was such a long way away, probably still safely tucked up in their TARDIS, sculling beer and watching alien porn, just he had been when she left him.

Even so, as she lay back down again, she shivered and pulled Koschei's tunic closer around her, the abandoned, dusty room all at once seeming even colder and more lonely than it had been before.


	31. Chapter 31

_**Author's Note:**_

_**Hiya everyone! I'm back again with a new chapter, hopefully that makes people smile as much as it does me! The fact is, I love writing this fic, and I miss it hugely when I'm writing other things. Hopefully that isn't too weird.**_

_**Big thanks to the following people for their inspirational reviews:- SophieQueenOfTheWorld, EmmaMarie, AliBojanich, Push To Shove, GuesssWho, VampireKittiz, SawManiac211, MayFairy, Ahsilaa, MountainLord-92, Celestial Valkyrie, Dragoneisha, Theta'sWorstNightmare, TheWickedHeart, Geraldine, sailormajinmoon, Imorgen, Lost Moon, Beautiful Space (x 2), EDZEL2, JessieDear13 (x 3) and Aietradaea.**_

_**To Geraldine: Thanks so much, glad you liked the Medusa Cascade reference, I've been hanging out to unveil that one ;)  
**_

_**To Lost Moon: Bit more Team-Theta-Koschei in this one, so hope you enjoy. As for the ghost-Master, you may have to wait a little longer to find out what happened to him.**_

_**To Beautiful Space: Sorry to hear you weren't well, hope you feel better now :)**_

* * *

**- Chapter Thirty One -**

_"This place is killing me,_  
_ Longer I stay, the more I can't break free._  
_ Every second's ticking down to my death._  
_ Getting so close, that I can't take a breath._  
_ Walls closing in, pushing me to the unknown,_  
_ A wave of fear chilling me to the bone..."_

_- Walls Closing In by Agitator._

* * *

Hurriedly, Theta led the way back out into the dusty corridor outside the deserted study. Both his hearts were pounding uncomfortably fast. None of his previous pranks had even come close to preparing him for this. It was a huge responsibility to discover that at this moment, the fate of the entire Universe could be resting on his and Koschei's shoulders. He knew he _should_ be terrified, but somehow he found himself feeling exhilarated instead. This was what life should be about – not being stuck in a dreary classroom learning theory after theory, with nothing to look forward to but a loveless marriage and a perpetually rule-bound existence, trapped on this stifling planet - but being out there and making a difference.

"Have you ever been to the Repair Docks before?" Koschei asked, as they re-entered the transparent transmat tube.

Theta removed the metal hatch concealing the matter transmission controls. "No, but I know where it is. It's not far from the Capitol buildings, at the centre of the Citadel. Should be easy enough to reach from here, if I can re-set the destination grid."

He pulled out his sonic screwdriver and began to work, disrupting the established transmat parameters and rapidly replacing them with his own. Beside him, Koschei fidgeted about, making it difficult to concentrate in the confined space. Theta was about to snap crossly at him, when he saw that his friend's eyes were fixed on the door leading back into the study. With some surprise, he realised that Koschei was genuinely anxious about leaving Kat alone. He couldn't recall the arrogant Heir of Oakdown ever troubling himself over a woman to this degree before. Koschei had never been one for romantic attachments. He was usually much more of a "love-'em-and-leave-'em" type, taking what he wanted from a sexual relationship and then moving on to the next one, without ever looking back. However, somehow, his involvement with Kat seemed to have brought out a protectiveness in him that Theta had never seen before.

"She'll be all right, Kos," he said reassuringly. "She's an experienced Time Lady, with very advanced skills. I get the impression that she can more than look after herself."

"Maybe," Koschei allowed. "But I don't think you understand how much psychic energy it took to do what she did, first saving my father's life in the ballroom, then destroying those creatures in the Adytum. It should have been impossible, but somehow she managed it. But what little energy she has left, she's channelling towards the baby, instead of retaining it for her own protection. Right now, she's totally vulnerable, Theta, and it worries me. I've redoubled my shielding of her presence within the psychic link, but if anyone happens to find her..."

"They won't," Theta replied emphatically. "No-one has any reason to look up here. And we'll be back to collect her in no time." Continuing to work on the controls, he shot a sidelong, curious glance at his friend. "You really care about her, don't you?"

"Maybe." Koschei's face hardened, a fleeting hint of jealousy darkening his blue eyes. "And so do you, right?"

"Yeah, I do. But not like that. It's...different."

"Different how?"

Theta shrugged. "I don't know, it's hard to describe. I feel comfortable with her, as if I've known her forever. I feel like I can trust her with my life. And I want to keep her safe, no matter what. But that's all. There's nothing else. Not like you mean, anyway." He slipped the screwdriver back into the pocket of his tunic. "There, that should do it."

Koschei handed him the hatch-cover to put back in place, his mind obviously still wrapped up in their conversation. "Who do you suppose she is, Theta? If she knows us in the future..."

"She knows _me _in the future," Theta replied. "She didn't say anything about knowing you."

"She didn't have to. I can feel it," Koschei retorted. "Besides, you and I are best friends. We're not likely to ever be too far apart, are we? If she knows you, she must know me."

"I don't know who she is. And maybe it's better if we never find out. We're not meant to know too much about our personal futures, it puts the whole causal nexus at risk. That's why anyone found to be breaking the Fourth Law of Time is supposed to be executed immediately, without interrogation, in case they reveal anything they shouldn't." Theta's gaze softened warningly. "Besides, it's not a good idea for you to get too involved with her, Kos. She's carrying another man's baby, don't forget. And no matter what happens, she can't stay here."

Koschei's lips curved in a cold, thoughtful smile. "You know what, Theta? Maybe the Laws of Time are overrated. We're supposed to be Time Lords. Maybe...just maybe...the Laws should be obeying_ us_, instead of the other way around, have you ever considered that?"

Theta felt a little shiver at the base of his spine at the expression on his friend's face. Koschei scared him sometimes, when he got like this. It was as if he was seeing another side to the cherished companion he had known nearly all his life. A secret, hidden side. Someone dark and driven, restless and unsatisfied, someone willing to take whatever he wanted, without mercy or thought to the consequences, just because he could. It was only the occasional glimpse, just every now and then, and Theta usually shrugged it off as Koschei having a bad day. But lately, it had been happening more and more often, and it was starting to disturb him more than he liked to admit. And that was without even taking into account the so far unexplained bout of madness Koschei had apparently undergone back in the Adytum. Theta's multiple bruises were still aching from that savage, unexpected attack. He had _seen_ Koschei's eyes change colour, from blue to whiskey-brown, just as Drax had described earlier. Not to mention all the off-the-wall things he had been saying...he'd told Kat she was his wife and that he would never allow her to leave. _What the hell had any of that been about? _Lusting after Kat was one thing – but to call her his _wife_... And now he didn't even seem to remember any of it. Was that a flow-on effect of the crack in time? Or was something else more sinister going on?

Uneasily, he forced his mounting worries about his friend to the back of his mind. He couldn't allow himself to be distracted from what they were supposed to be doing. One thing at a time, and one thing only. He would find a way to sort the rest out later.

"If we can't manage to halt this wave of entropy flowing across Gallifrey, none of us will have any sort of future left to worry about. So how about we just concentrate on that for the moment, all right, Kos?" he snapped. "Now, are you planning to stand there talking rubbish for the rest of the night or are you coming to the Repair Docks with me?"

Koschei grinned recklessly and all at once, in the blink of an eye, Theta's best friend and co-conspirator was back again, as if he had just imagined the rest. "You don't think I'm going to let you have the fun of stealing a TARDIS all by yourself, do you? Hurry up then, what are you waiting for? I want to do this and then get back to Kat as soon as possible."

Theta was left wondering whether Koschei had even heard a word he'd said. _One problem at at a time_, he reminded himself firmly again. Reaching out, he released some of his frustration and anxiety by slamming the red activation button hard. All around them, the air began to shimmer, as the instantaneous matter transmission commenced.

* * *

The ballroom was still a complete and utter shambles. Emergency lighting had been restored, and the majority of the students evacuated from the immediate area, but the med-techs were still busy treating the injured. A constant stream of anti-grav stretchers ferried the most badly wounded to the Infirmary, where additional medical personnel had been summoned from the Citadel to assist the Academy healers in handling the unprecedented influx of emergency patients. A team of maintenance staff were busy clearing away the remains of the two giant chandeliers. It was already apparent that the ballroom would never be the same again. The priceless obsidian marble floor had been fractured beyond repair in several places from the impact of the falling monstrosities. As for the chandeliers themselves, they were lost forever, the shattered crystals far too old and too precious to ever replace.

Lord Oakdown oversaw the clean-up operation with an iron hand, a grim expression written across his face. It had been a day of mixed opportunity for the House of Oakdown. Granted, the Otherstide Ball had been an unmitigated catastrophe, thanks largely to his misbegotten cur of a son. Mocking and shaming his father by dancing the Great Dance with a servant girl in front of the cream of Gallifreyan society, and then, even worse, showing himself to be a traitor by helping that same girl escape, when she turned out to be not a servant at all, but a renegade Time Lady guilty of breaking the Fourth Law of Time. His ice-cold eyes glittered with suppressed rage. Once he got his hands on Koschei, he would teach him not to shame his House, a lesson his son would never forget. He would make the arrogant little shit suffer until he wished he had never been born!

However, making use of the superb self-restraint he had perfected over his long life, he reigned in his escalating temper, hiding it behind a smooth, impassive mask. He had too many enemies watching, too many people who would love to see his House fall. It would never do to allow any of them to see him lose control in public, whatever disgraceful antics his son got up to.

After all, he reflected, from a politician's point of view, the incident with the falling chandeliers had not been entirely calamitous. Unlike President Drall, he had escaped without a scratch and he flattered himself that he appeared at his absolute best in a crisis. Strong and sure leadership, that was what was required, that was what people remembered and respected. With the President in the Infirmary, suffering from combined shock and regeneration sickness, Chancellor Umbast was nominally left in charge. However, despite his high office, the basic truth was that Umbast was nothing more than a fat idiot. Lord Oakdown eyed the other man disparagingly as he paced back and forth, wringing his hands in despair, his piggy little face screwed up in helpless indecision. The ridiculous fool was grateful, so pathetically grateful, for Lord Oakdown's instinctive air of command and his decisive actions in resolving the current disaster. He was just crying out to be used and manipulated. And used and manipulated he would be.

Already arguably the richest man on Gallifrey, Lord Oakdown had no great ambition to be President. He had no interest in being dressed up and dragged out for boring ceremonial occasions, and still less in being subjected to incessant meetings and reports and statistics. Given the decadent life he chose to lead behind closed doors, it would never suit him to take on a position so completely in the public eye, and so utterly time-consuming into the bargain. No, he preferred to be the unseen power behind the throne, pulling all the strings, deftly influencing the decision-making where required to achieve his own ends. And with Drall out of the way, and with Umbast shaping up nicely to become the perfect puppet-President, it seemed his opportunity had finally arrived.

It was odd, though. He couldn't shake the feeling that someone was missing, someone else who should have been a contender for power, now that Drall was incapacitated. He kept looking around, as if he expected to see someone else taking charge, someone who should have been there, someone who had always matched and threatened his authority in the Inner Circle of the High Council. His eyes narrowed suspiciously as they swept the room, but nobody stepped up to challenge him in any way.

At that moment, Castellan Rannex arrived on the scene, interrupting his train of thought. Lord Oakdown only needed to take one look at the man's thunderous face to know that his mission had been unsuccessful.

"What happened, Castellan?" Umbast demanded. "Where is the girl?"

"She escaped, I regret to say, my Lord Chancellor," Rannex said, his tone vibrating with muted rage and frustration. "We used the psychic link to track her into the hidden tunnels from the Old Times, below the Citadel. All cerebral indicators showed that she was hiding in a small crypt, far beneath the Records Room. However, when we arrived, she wasn't there. All we could find were the remains of two strange metallic creatures not native to Gallifrey. I've ordered these remains to be transferred to the Citadel laboratories for analysis. Also, scans show an enormous discharge of temporal energy in the room. I have requested a team of technicians to investigate the cause. As for the girl, my men are searching the tunnels for her as we speak, but it isn't proving to be easy. Every time they succeed in pinpointing her location using the psychic link, she appears to slip away again."

Lord Oakdown gave him a brittle, supercilious smile. "You're wasting your time, Castellan. She's probably nowhere near the tunnels. This girl is obviously a Time Lady of no small ability. She has been hiding in plain sight for days, and none of us have suspected her in the slightest. I'm sure she is quite able to use the psychic link any way she chooses, to confuse and disorientate her pursuers. Not to mention the fact that, according to you and your men, my son is with her. The Heir of Oakdown isn't just clever, my lords, he's brilliant. He's been able to successfully pull off that particular cloaking trick within the psychic link ever since he was five years old."

Rannex inclined his head subserviently. "Then what do you wish me to do, my Lord?"

"You will do precisely nothing, Castellan," Lord Oakdown said, his voice calm and even. "You may safely leave the situation to me. One of my son's more regrettable characteristics is the tendency towards over-confidence. His arrogance is such that he often overlooks quite obvious deficiencies in his schemes. I am his father. I know his psychic signature almost as well as I know my own. If he _is_ helping to shield the girl, I will be able to use that unique signature to trace her whereabouts. He may believe he's protecting her, but in reality he's doing nothing more than painting a giant target on her back. And once I find her, I assure you, nothing on this planet will be able to save her."

* * *

The TARDIS repair dock was a long, low room, bristling with technology. The walls and floor were pure white, the cold, clinical décor reminding Theta uncannily of the Infirmary back at the Academy. The only difference was, instead of treating sick and injured people, this area of the Citadel was dedicated to the repair of damaged time capsules.

Despite the dock being clearly labelled as a restricted area, they had quickly discovered that Kat was right about the lack of serious security. Apart from a patrol of bored guards that went by every fifteen minutes, and a couple of locked doors the sonic screwdriver had dealt with, there had been nothing to prevent Theta and Koschei gaining immediate access.

They stood just inside the main doors, concealed in the shadows, staring around the dimly-lit room in awe. Row after row of TARDISes stretched away from them, all of them with their Chameleon circuits de-activated, squat hulking silhouettes in the gloom. Each ship was isolated in a separate repair station, each one connected by brightly coloured cables to complex diagnostic computers, twinkling with lights. Neither of the boys had ever seen so many time capsules in one place at one time before. To be honest, they had rarely been permitted anywhere near a single TARDIS, let alone this many. Theta knew he shouldn't be enjoying this, but he couldn't help feeling a burst of pure excitement. The Academy simulators were one thing, but _these_ capsules were the real deal.

Koschei obviously felt the same thrill, because he whispered gleefully, "It's almost too easy, isn't it? Why didn't we think of this before?"

Theta frowned, the lurking anxiety over his friend resurfacing all over again. Usually, Theta was the one that urged them onwards into mischief, because he was usually the one with the least to lose. However, since discovering the gut-wrenching truth about his father during their unauthorised expedition to Low Town, Koschei appeared to have thrown his usual caution over rule-breaking completely to the wind.

"Maybe because we're not that insane!" he hissed back.

Koschei gave a soft, derisive laugh that did nothing to alleviate Theta's concern. "Speak for yourself, Lungbarrow!"

Without waiting for a reply, he moved forward into the room, leaving Theta with no choice but to follow. Together, keeping all their senses on full alert, and watching each other's backs, they approached the nearest row of time capsules. Nothing stirred. They couldn't have chosen a better time to break into the dock. The aisles between the repair stations were silent and deserted. Usually, Theta supposed, this place would be a hive of activity, bustling with technicians at all hours of the day and night. But today was one of the few holidays of the Gallifreyan calendar that applied to absolutely everyone, Time Lord and Plebeian classes alike – apart from the domestic servants, no-one worked on Otherstide.

"It's like being handed one of those boxes of assorted sweets they make for the Festival of the Timewright," Koschei murmured, avidly surveying the waiting ships. "Each one more tempting than the last. So which one are we going to take?"

Theta entered the nearest station and stepped up to the TARDIS docked there. It was a sleek, modern Type-40. A sense of almost breathless anticipation filled him. He'd always wanted to see inside a Type-40, which was the most current model of time capsule in use on Gallifrey. Reaching out, he rattled the exterior doors, but they refused to open. Undaunted, he applied his sonic screwdriver to them, with still no result.

"Dead-locked!" he exclaimed in disappointment.

"Well, go on, open it with your fancy screwdriver!" Koschei urged.

"I've told you before, Kos, it doesn't _do_ deadlocks!"

Koschei swore under his breath. "Typical! Sonic-bloody-screwdriver, what a waste of space. One of these days, Theta, I'm going to build a proper laser screwdriver, and show you how it's done!"

"So you keep saying!" Theta shot back irritably. "Maybe you should get on with it, instead of boring me senseless talking about it all the time! Meanwhile, at least we've answered your question about which TARDIS to take. The first one we can find that's unlocked."

"Assuming we_ can _find one. What if they're _all_ locked?"

Theta turned his back on the alluring Type-40 and hurried across to the next station, which contained a slightly more dated Type-35. He tried the doors, but again had no success.

"Kat says this is an established part of the history of her time-line. You and I steal a TARDIS from this repair dock and fly it to the Medusa Cascade ," he gritted out doggedly. "So here has to be one here somewhere we can get into, otherwise it could never have happened that way. You start checking the next row. And hurry! That security patrol will be back through here in a few minutes, and if their scanners pick us up, we're going to end up in a whole world of trouble."

"Yeah, like we're not already," Koschei muttered in a sarcastic tone.

Nevertheless, he crossed over to the next row of repair stations and began to systematically enter each one, trying the doors of each docked TARDIS he came to. Rapidly, Theta did the same down his own row. Ordinarily, dicing with the very real chance that they could be caught any second would have been part of the fun, adding to the thrill of the adventure. But this time, with Kat waiting for them back in that dusty old study, trusting them to return for her, everything was so much more serious.

At last, just when he was starting to doubt they would ever have any success, he felt a door yield to his hand. "Here, Kos!" he called jubilantly, keeping his voice low. "Over here!"

There was a bit of quiet scuffling and then Koschei rejoined him out of the gloom.

"Oh, you have _got_ to be joking!" the dark-haired boy exclaimed in dismayed contempt. "You can't seriously think we're going to save the Universe in that old rust bucket? It's a museum piece!"

"It's not a rust bucket, it's a Type-30!" Theta retorted defensively. "It mightn't be the most modern TARDIS in here, but as long as it gets us where we need to go, who cares?" In the distance, the sound of voices and marching feet suddenly broke the stillness. "Besides, it's the only one that's not dead-locked and we just ran out of time. Come on!"

And, before Koschei could say another word, Theta grabbed him by the front of his white linen shirt and dragged him bodily inside the battered old TARDIS.

* * *

Lord Oakdown left Acting-President Umbast and Castellan Rannex to supervise the last vestiges of activity in the ballroom. Now that the immediate emergency had been dealt with, he trusted that their meagre abilities could stretch to managing at least that much. And if...no, _when_...he located the fugitive Time Lady, he didn't particularly want any of the other members of the High Council present. This was something he wanted to deal with on his own.

Flanked by two of the Chancellery Guard, chosen for their brawn rather than their brains, he stepped inside the transparent transmat cylinder. He was only superficially aware of his physical surroundings, his mind sunk deep within the psychic link. As he had told Rannex, it was theoretically possible to use his genetic connections to his son to trace Koschei's thought patterns within the link. However, it wasn't proving to be nearly as easy as he had anticipated. It appeared his son's talent for misdirection and manipulation had increased far beyond even his awareness. Nevertheless, with some considerable effort, he was eventually able to isolate a distinct concentration of familiar psionic energy, centred somewhere at the very top of the Academy buildings. Koschei was shielding something there, something he was very keen to keep anyone else from discovering.

"Got you!" Lord Oakdown thought in grim satisfaction.

To his surprise, the transmat didn't appear to travel as high as the penthouse level he required. It was as if the device refused to acknowledge that part of the Academy even existed. Lord Oakdown scowled in irritation. Shielding the girl with the psychic link was one thing, but how had they managed to tamper with the Academy's transportation system? Deleting all reference to an entire level of the building should be virtually impossible. It was as if it had never been there at all.

Pulling out his master over-ride key, issued to all members of the High Council, he inserted it into the console and manually entered the co-ordinates. The transmat shimmered and he found himself stepping forth into a stone corridor layered in dust. Lord Oakdown looked around him in astonishment. The place looked untouched, as if no-one had been there for centuries. Certainly, there was no sign of any recent visitors, no foot-prints or scuffle marks in the thick grey dust. And yet, something in the back of his mind insisted that he had been here before, and not long ago. He should know who had once lived here, up in this exclusive eyrie, high above the rest of the Academy. Someone he knew well, someone he had visited often. But, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't remember the person's name or bring their face to mind.

Then, as he and the guards walked forward into the corridor, he saw the dust shift to cover their own footprints, crawling and spreading along the floor like a living thing, and he suddenly understood.

_Entropy dust._ He had heard of it, but had never seen it before. Certainly never on Gallifrey. A shiver ran across his skin. Some sort of disaster had happened here, a significant degradation of the timeline. His temporal senses might have become somewhat blunted over the years, blurred by indolence and good living, but he had travelled the Time Vortex often enough in his day to recognise when something was wrong. No wonder the transmat had refused to recognise this level of the building – temporally-speaking, it had never even existed. _What the hell has Koschei gotten himself into this time?_

He strode across to the nearby door, followed by the guards, and pulled it open, careful not to make any betraying noise. He had expected to find his son and that cursed Lungbarrow boy in here, hiding away with the renegade female, but instead the room appeared to be deserted. It was an unnerving sight, an eerie ghost-study, bathed in the low light from the wall sconces, filled with lurking shadows. As one, the guards moved closer together and pulled their stasars. Lord Oakdown flicked them a look of cold disdain. _ Ill-bred cretins, _he thought contemptuously. What they lacked in brains, they more than made up for with an instinctive talent for cowardly self-preservation.

Ignoring them, he walked further into the room, careful not to touch anything. That was when he saw the small, slender figure in the corner of the room. She was lying on the floor, her long, dark-copper hair spread out loosely like a halo around her still form. The creeping entropy dust surrounded her, moving and flowing in restless, trickling eddies, but didn't actually draw near to her, reminding Lord Oakdown of iron filings repelled from a polarised magnet – proof positive, if he had needed it, that she was an anomaly in this time-line.

With a surge of disgust, he realised that the spill of black velvet cloth covering her like a blanket was the formal tunic his son had worn to the Ball, the golden oak tree clearly emblazoned across it. _The ancient, honoured symbol of his House sheltering a traitor and a renegade. _Quivering with rage, he stepped even closer and crouched down close beside her, ready to snatch the tunic away. She was either deeply asleep or unconscious, because she didn't stir as he leaned over her. He saw that her cheeks were as pale as freshly blown snow, a sharp contrast to vibrant colour of her hair, and her breathing steady but shallow. Momentarily distracted, his eyes trailed over her unheeding face and down her body, trying to decide what his son saw in her, to risk so much. He himself preferred his women tall and full-figured, their abundant charms much more obvious than any possessed by this little scrap of a thing, with her tiny breasts and her slim hips.

However, the more he studied her, the more he realised that she did have...something. Perhaps it was her very smallness, those delicate features, that air of vulnerable fragility. Perhaps it was that glorious torrent of hair. Or perhaps it was just the fact that she belonged to his son. His eyes slid from her full lips down to the pulse that fluttered enticingly at the base of her throat as she slept.

_ How many times has Koschei used her_, he found himself wondering,_ and how good did it feel? _

To his surprise, he felt his anger transforming into a rush of hot desire at the thought, imagining the two of them together. Stretching out his hand, he ran his fingers in a feather-light caress down her cheek, savouring the softness of her skin, just as he assumed Koschei had done before him.

_Oh yes, my son, I wonder, how good did it feel?_

In response, she finally stirred, a troubled look passing over her face as she flinched instinctively away from his lustful touch.

"Koschei?" she murmured fretfully, her green eyes flickering open and staring up at him, still clouded with sleep and confusion.

"Guess again, my dear," Lord Oakdown said in a silky voice, watching as her gaze sharpened in shocked recognition and relishing the expression of utter horror that spread across her face. "Guess again."


	32. Chapter 32

_**Author's Notes: **_

_**Hi all! Thanks to all the lovely reviewers since last time - JessieDear13, EmmaMarie, MayFairy, SophieQueenOfTheWorld, MountainLord-92, SawManiac211, Celestial Valkyrie, Ahsilaa, Dragoneisha, sailormajinmoon, TheWickedHart, Geraldine, Aietradaea, Imorgen, Push To Shove, EDZEL2, Misplaced Levity and Freya.**_

_**To Geraldine: Sorry this has taken a while to post, but it wasn't the easiest chapter to write. Thanks very much for continuing to review :)**_

_**To Guest: The Type-40 TARDIS wasn't necessarily meant to be the Doctor's eventual TARDIS, it was just meant to show his interest in that particular model, even this early in his time-line. However, if you wish to believe it was "Sexy", please go right ahead ;) I'm very glad you are enjoying the plots as much as I enjoy writing them, that's terrific! XXX**_

_**To Freya: Thanks so much for the review, you are just in time for the next chapter!**_

* * *

- **Chapter Thirty Two** -

"_**Regrets collect like old friends,  
Here to relive your darkest moments.  
I can see no way, I can see no way,  
And all of the ghouls come out to play.**_

_**And every demon wants his pound of flesh,**_

_**But I like to keep some things to myself.**__**  
I like to keep my issues drawn,**__**  
It's always darkest before the dawn..."**_

_**- Florence and the Machine, "Shake it Out"**_

* * *

As weak as she was, Tejana didn't hesitate. Sitting up abruptly, her hand flashed out of the concealing folds of Koschei's tunic and a fierce click resounded throughout the room.

"If I were you, my Lord," she said in a cold voice. "I wouldn't move a muscle. This is a laser screwdriver." She nudged the slender device firmly under Lord Oakdown's chin, the triple-section tip pressed deeply into his flesh. "Your son made it for me in the future. As with everything he does, it's technologically perfect, extremely powerful and utterly lethal. And I'm more than willing to use it, right here, right now."

It seemed that today was destined to be a day of firsts, she reflected grimly, and not good ones either. Using the psychic link as an offensive weapon and now her laser screwdriver as well. It had always been strangely comforting to know the deadly capabilities of the Master's gift, but up until now she had always obstinately refused to even consider utilising them, preferring to pretend that the device was just a tool, like the Doctor's sonic screwdriver. At this particular moment, however, she was beyond desperate. And if she _had_ to end up using the laser technology to kill someone, her despicable father-in-law seemed like a very good place to start.

Then, as the two Chancellery Guard took a hurried step forward, their stasars raised, she added, "Oh, and I'd also be instructing your friends Tweedledum and Tweedledummer to back off. Very, _very_ slowly."

Lord Oakdown gave her a twisted smile, taking care not to move his head as he did so, all too conscious of the threatening weapon burrowing into the soft skin of his neck. "Don't be foolish, child. Resisting arrest will only make things worse for you."

"Arrest? Is that what I'm resisting?" Tejana retorted sarcastically. "Now_ that's _funny...the way you were touching me, I thought perhaps you had something else in mind. Your reputation with women precedes you, my Lord. I know all about your..._proclivities_. And I can assure you that if you ever lay another finger on me, I will slice it off and jam it somewhere very uncomfortable, probably sideways! Now tell them to get out and close the door behind them!"

"It won't do you any good," Lord Oakdown growled. "There are already more Guard on the way, summoned through the psychic link. You can't escape, no matter what you do. You're trapped. Put down the weapon, and I promise things will go much easier for you."

Tejana gave a harsh, brittle laugh. "How stupid do you think I am?" she demanded. "I'm a Time Lady, a descendant of the Great Houses of Gallifrey...I know the penalty for breaking the Fourth Law of Time. Immediate execution, without trial. So maybe I should go ahead and melt your brain inside your skull, just for the fun of it. After all, I have nothing to lose!"

Rage and frustration flashed through his eyes. She recognised the nasty look and she smiled inwardly. He had underestimated her. He had seen her lying on the floor, a small, fragile-looking woman, alone and apparently vulnerable, and in his arrogance, he had assumed she would be easy pickings, like so many of the other females he dealt with on Gallifrey. It was a mistake she guessed he wouldn't be making again.

"Very well," he bit out. "I fail to see how you think it will advance your cause, but I will accommodate your wishes...for now." He raised his voice to a commanding bark. "Guards! Wait outside for the reinforcements."

The guards hesitated, indecision written across their faces. Tejana watched them warily, her grip on the laser screwdriver as steady as a rock, her aim unwavering. Their duty was to protect Lord Oakdown. They were probably already going to be in enough hot water with the Castellan for not anticipating the very real danger she represented, and allowing the great Lord close enough to her to be effectively taken hostage. However, if they disobeyed his orders and he was injured or killed as a result, their lives wouldn't be worth a grain of salt. Reluctantly, making the only decision they could under the circumstances, they backed carefully and slowly away, until they were outside in the corridor. Then the door closed behind them and Tejana and Lord Oakdown were left alone.

"Wise choice," she approved. "I saw your son disintegrate a man with his laser screwdriver once, you know, someone who had crossed him. It liquefied his flesh and turned his bones into cinders from the inside out. Not a pretty sight."

"Who _are_ you?" Lord Oakdown demanded. "You claim to be a descendant of the Great Houses, but the Matrix holds no record of your bio-data, past, present or future."

She sighed. In her depleted condition, her arm was already growing tired from holding the screwdriver against his neck, but she knew she couldn't falter or allow him to call her bluff. Her only chance was to buy enough time for Theta and Koschei to get back here with their stolen TARDIS. And the only way to do that was to keep Lord Oakdown talking as long as she possibly could.

"That's because I got here by falling through a crack in time. I was supposed to be born here on Gallifrey, two hundred years from now. But the Time-fire has wiped me from the history of the Universe, including the predestination records of the Matrix."

"A crack in time?" he sneered in open contempt. "Here on Gallifrey? A likely story."

"It's true. Back in my time-line, there's been some sort of temporal explosion at a weak point in the space-time continuum, causing a series of hair-line fractures in the Time Vortex. They've slowly been spreading, backwards through time and space. By now, I think they've consumed nearly the entire Universe. Gallifrey has been hanging on by a thread, but the transduction barrier is beginning to fail. One by one, people here will begin to disappear too, erased from time as if they had never been. It's already started to happen. You're a senior Time Lord, you've travelled in the Vortex before. You_ must _be able to sense it."

Lord Oakdown froze, as if her words had suddenly struck a chord with him. His gaze flickered around the grey, ghost-like room, and a small shudder ran though his body. "This study..."

"Used to belong to a man named Borusa, one of the greatest politicians Gallifrey ever produced. You once knew him very well indeed. The Time-fire has taken him, and in the process, has changed the entire history of this planet. That's why this study has been taken over by entropy dust, because in real time, it never actually existed. It's nothing more now than a footprint of the Neverwere."

His dark eyes narrowed, his brow furrowed in thought, but his handsome face gave nothing away. Tejana wished she had some idea whether he remembered Borusa or not. Surely, if he did, he would understand the danger Gallifrey was in. Unexpectedly, a small, faint hope emerged deep inside her. She had never in her wildest moments considered turning to the Master's father for help. But for all his multitude of faults, he was still a senior Time Lord...if she could just make him understand, perhaps it wasn't impossible after all.

"You said you know my son, in the future," he said in a hard voice. "How well do you know him, exactly?"

Tejana bit her lip, trying to decide exactly how much she should tell him. Breaking the Fourth Law of Time was the last thing she had ever intended to do. Revealing future events went against everything she had ever been taught, everything she had ever believed in. Even caught as she was in the maelstrom of this unholy mess, she had been so careful from the beginning never to reveal the full truth about herself to anybody on Gallifrey. But things had come to such a perilous pass that she knew she could no longer worry about protecting the causal nexus. If there was even the slightest chance that she could convince him to help her, she had to take it. Slipping her finger inside the high neckline of her gown, she tugged free the golden necklace the Master had recently given her. The stylised oak tree shone like fire against her breast. Lord Oakdown visibly recoiled in shock at the sight, drawing his breath in sharply.

"I'm his wife," she said simply.

Doing his best to regain his usual cool self-possession, Lord Oakdown forced a sneer to his face. "Easy enough to say!" he said in a voice like ice. "You're a proven renegade and traitor, nothing but a liar trying every deception you can think of to save your own skin. That necklace means nothing – you could have stolen it from anywhere, at any time! Why should I believe you?"

"Because of this." And fixing him with a steady gaze, Tejana softly said one word – the one beautiful, melodic word that proved beyond any shadow of a doubt that she was entitled to wear the symbol of Oakdown, around her neck or anywhere else she desired. The Master's true name, given to him at his birth by this man and his wife, a closely-held secret that only Koschei's chosen life-mate would ever be permitted to share.

The last of Lord Oakdown's composure fell away, his face as white as chalk as acceptance finally sank in. "Oh, Rassilon," he whispered, looking as if she had slapped him. "It's true. But I would never allow my son to ally himself to someone of inferior bloodline, never!"

An uncontrollable ripple of jealous anger surged through Tejana's hearts as she remembered that Lord Oakdown's idea of a suitable consort for his son was the Lady Ushas – aristocratic, beautiful, voluptuous, blindingly intelligent and so _very_ well connected. She could only imagine what he would say if he discovered that Koschei's chosen wife was born of the House of Lungbarrow, let alone that she was the daughter of Theta Sigma, a boy he had not even considered worthy to be friends with the Heir of Oakdown.

Her lips tightened into a thin line, and she slipped the Master's golden necklace back beneath her dress, her eyes flashing with pride. Perhaps the House of Lungbarrow had never possessed the wealth or political influence of the other Great Houses, but when it came to lineage, few could claim a bloodline more pure. It was said that her family could trace their antecedents all the way back to the mysterious Other himself.

"My bloodline is one of the oldest on Gallifrey," she replied haughtily. " I have no intention of telling you which House I belong to, since it's hardly relevant to this discussion, but as it happens, it's older by far than yours. And believe me, Lord Oakdown, I'm not exactly thrilled about being related to _you_ either! The fact remains, whether you like it or not, eight hundred years from now, far into the future, I'm Koschei's wife...and I'm pregnant with his son."

"His son?" he echoed, his voice trembling as his eyes dropped to her still-flat stomach. "You're carrying my..._grandson_?"

She nodded, pushing home her advantage. Everything she had ever heard about the Master's father had indicated that his family name was the thing that mattered to him most. Surely then his grandson's life would have some value to him. "The last Heir of Oakdown."

"My grandson," he repeated, as if testing how well the word rolled off his tongue. His expression had inexplicably softened and, for the first time, Tejana thought she could see real emotion there. "Does my son...the Koschei from this timeline...know about this? Is that why he was helping you?"

"No, I've told him nothing. He subconsciously feels the connection between us, but that's all. He knows nothing of what happens in the future." She pinned him with her gaze. "Please, Lord Oakdown. I need your help. Not for my sake, but for the sake of your son and your grandson. I need to get to the Medusa Cascade. There will be a rift in time manifesting there very soon. I can use it to get back to my own time-stream, and maybe I can help to prevent the erasure of the Universe."

He hesitated briefly, his eyes acute and keenly assessing as they met hers. "You said your son would be the last Heir of Oakdown," he said slowly. "What did you mean by that? Why will he be the last of our line? What happens to me in the future? Do I live to see my grandson?"

Suddenly, Tejana felt very weary, the terrible weight of her knowledge pressing down on her like a heavy fist. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the entropy dust stirring and shifting, eternally moving, never still, and it made her shudder.

"No," she said flatly, not pulling any punches. "You die, approximately six centuries from now, in the Last Great Time War, with all the other Time Lords. Gallifrey burns and is completely destroyed. Of our entire race, there are only three survivors – Koschei, myself, and one other male. That's why my son will be the last pure-blood Time Lord ever born. There will be no others."

"A war? A war that we _lose_?" Lord Oakdown snapped incredulously. "Against who?"

"Creatures named the Daleks. Cyborgs without mercy or emotion, things that live only to hate. Our people haven't encountered them yet, in your time-line, but they are already out there, breeding on their home world, Skaro. And the devastation they will cause, the pain and the death and the loss, is beyond any calculation." Tejana's face twisted with bitterness at her dark memories, the wolf that forever waited outside her door. "Gallifrey doesn't lose the War, my Lord. But neither do we win. Our planet is destroyed, but so is the Dalek Empire. There are no winners and no losers. Just death and destruction."

She wasn't sure what she expected from Lord Oakdown in response to her stark revelations, but his calm, unnaturally-poised silence unnerved her. His face was still unreadable, his expression thoughtful as his gaze rested on her stomach. There was obviously a lot going on inside his head, but she had no idea what it was.

"Death and destruction," he murmured, an odd light of triumph in his eyes. "And yet the House of Oakdown lives on, beyond it all." He gestured towards Tejana's stomach, careful not to make any sudden movements. "My grandson. I will never live to see him born, but he will carry my name forth into the Universe. Please...I know it's asking a lot...but may I touch? This will be my only chance, the only thing I will ever know of him."

Tejana hesitated, unsure what to do. She didn't want his hands anywhere near her, but the yearning in his voice pulled at her hearts. Her own father hadn't wanted anything to do with her precious baby. Did she have the right to deny her son the only contact with his other grandfather he would ever experience? She knew what the Master would say...but her life-mate had never learned the value of forgiveness.

"All right," she conceded eventually. "But just don't forget who's holding the laser screwdriver."

He gave her a thin smile. "Oh, believe me, my dear, I haven't forgotten. Thank you for this concession. You have no idea what it means to me."

Slowly, he put his hand out and laid it on her stomach. She felt the repellent warmth of it spreading across her skin beneath the thin layer of her clothes and she tensed, almost flinching away. But then she forced herself to remain still, reluctantly accepting his touch. He closed his eyes and she felt him probing the psychic link with his mind. Koschei's protective barriers held strong, keeping him out of Tejana's head. But she felt him brush her child's developing consciousness, gently touching the steadily growing miracle that was his grandson.

His smile widened in recognition. It should have been a beautiful, poignant moment – a grandfather welcoming the advent of his grandson. But Tejana couldn't help feeling there was something predatory about that smile. Something cunning. Something...unpleasant.

"I feel him," he said, his hand moving softly against her belly in an intimate, stroking caress. "I can sense his essence. So this is Koschei's son. Hmmmm...a good, strong boy. Such a pity..._he will never have the chance to be born._"

With that, in a flash of unbelievable speed, his hand shot up to her wrist and twisted it in a violent wrench. Tejana's attention had been so concentrated on his interaction with her baby that she was taken completely by surprise. She screamed in agony as she felt the small bones in her wrist snap. The laser screwdriver fell to the floor with a clunk and Lord Oakdown snatched it up victoriously.

"I'll take that, if you don't mind," he taunted, slipping the weapon inside his voluminous robes. "As you said earlier, if my oh-so-clever son made it, I'm sure it's a very useful little toy. You should never have dropped your guard, you foolish, sentimental girl. I sensed your physical weakness as soon as I laid hands on you. You're channelling all your energy towards the child."

"What are you _doing_?" she gasped weakly, tears of pain streaming down her face. "I explained to you what happens..."

"And I'm very grateful," he smirked. "After all, that was what I came here to learn. Why do you think I took the trouble to apprehend you personally, only bringing two intellectually-challenged and easily-disposed-of guards with me? I couldn't take the chance that the Castellan would find you first. He's such a stickler for the rules, he would have had you executed immediately, without allowing you to speak, as laid down by the Laws of Gallifrey. But I wanted to force you to talk, to find out what happens in my own personal future. Forbidden knowledge, to be sure, yet so very, very useful. I have to admit, however, I didn't expect you to make it quite so easy for me. Nevertheless, now that you have so obligingly told me, I can work to change it all. My son survives this Great Time War, but I do not? I don't think so, my dear. That is entirely unacceptable. If anything, it should be the other way around."

Tejana felt almost light-headed with pain, stabs of agony lancing through her shattered wrist and up her arm. Oh stars, how could she ever have made such a stupid mistake? How could she have allowed him to lull her into believing he would care anything for his grandson? Of course, there had never been any chance he was going to help her. He was an Oakdown. His own survival was always going to be paramount, even above the interests of his family. She should never, _ever _have told him about his forthcoming death in the Time War. "The...other way around?"

He laughed. "Oh yes. You didn't really think I would truly be swayed by all your inane, emotional drivel about being his wife, did you? Come now, why should I care for my son's future, or the future of the brat he seeded so successfully in his whore's belly? If I'm going to be dead anyway, why would any of you matter to me? I have no intention of allowing you to return to your own time to help avert the erasure of the Universe. As it happens, I'm quite happy with the way things presently are. With every other planet apart from Gallifrey gone, this so-called Time War will never eventuate and I will continue to enjoy my life without the threat of my imminent death hanging over me. And I _do_ so enjoy my life, you have no idea. There are so many diversions I've yet to sample, so many fleshly delights and tempting vices available to a man in my position, it would be such a shame to have it all cut short before I reach my prime."

"Didn't you_ hear _me say that the transduction barrier is failing?" Tejana demanded. "Gallifrey is running out of time! In a few hours, there will be nothing left at all. The entire planet will have been erased from time, including you and your sick, filthy life!"

"Nonsense!" he responded in a patronising tone. "It's all quite straightforward, really. All the Time Lords need to do is to ensure that the transduction barrier is sufficiently strengthened to resist these cracks in time – a no doubt simple matter for a race as temporally advanced as ours. And once you've been executed as a traitor, no-one will ever suspect the truth of what happened to the other planets. Gallifrey will stand proudly alone in the Universe, in all her might and majesty, as is only right and proper."

"You're mad! Utterly mad! You can't just play with time like that! There's a reason why it's forbidden! What about the rest of the Universe? Thousands of galaxies, millions of planets, billions of lives! Including your own unborn grandson!"

"What about them? The other worlds will be no loss to us. Compared to the Time Lords, they were nothing but primitives." He leaned closer to her, smiling cruelly. "And as for the child...well, while we're both being so deliciously honest with each other, you may as well know that Koschei was never any more to me than a means to an end. I needed to have a true-born son, to maintain my prestige among the Great Houses, but beyond that, he has always been supremely unimportant to me...as is his progeny." Reaching out a hand, he softly cupped her face, stroking his thumb sensually along her cheekbone. "Ah there, there - don't look so shocked, little girl. You would never have made a good Oakdown anyway. You are clearly far too unversed in the harsh realities of life."

Tejana pulled her face sharply away, an incredulous sickness rising in her throat. His disdain for the other inferior races of the Universe was a sentiment that would be shared by many of his Time Lord colleagues, and did not surprise her. But there was something else in his voice, something in his touch, some kind of strange, bitter, underlying resentment as he spoke of Koschei that suddenly made her realise the shameful truth about her life-mate's father; the truth that she now saw had already been subtly undermining and corrupting the Master's life before the drums had ever begun.

"Oh gods, you're jealous of him, aren't you? You've _always_ been jealous of him, your own son!"

Lord Oakdown stiffened in anger at her words, the mocking smile falling away from his lips, and she knew even before he spoke that she had hit a very large nerve indeed. "Silence! You know nothing, you traitorous little bitch!"

She glared up at him like a feral animal, hatred and contempt shining in her eyes as she cradled her broken wrist to her chest. "Oh, but I do! Because I'm right, aren't I? You had to have a true-born son, to keep your position among the Great Houses, to be able to flaunt your heir in their faces. But as he grew, you saw that he was going to be more than you ever were, more than you ever _could _be!"

"Ridiculous!"

"No, it's not! I can see it all now. The great Lord Oakdown, whose pride and arrogance could never allow his son to eclipse him!" she spat, horrified at her sudden insight into the sterile, loveless life the Master had been forced to lead from the very beginning. No wonder her life-mate had never wanted to speak of his father, even to her. No wonder his hatred for this one single man had been virulent enough to create _The Moment_, the most devastating weapon the Universe had ever known. "_That's_ why you pushed him so hard, always riding him to be the best, to be the brightest. That's why nothing he ever did was good enough for you, why you always wanted more and more and more from him. He thought it was because you were concerned for the glory of House Oakdown, but it wasn't that at all! It was because you secretly wanted him to fail! You wanted to prove to yourself and everyone else that he would never surpass you – you wanted the satisfaction of seeing him crash and burn. But he didn't, did he? The harder you pushed him, the better he became, the more he shone, and the more you hated him for it! You jealous, twisted old fool! What have you done? What have you_ done?_"

Pulling back his hand, he slapped her as hard as he could, snapping her head forcefully back against the wall. Bright, painful lights seared through her brain, temporarily blinding her, and blood ran steadily from the corner of her mouth down her chin. Dimly, at the same time, she heard the sound of marching feet outside the closed door of the study.

Lord Oakdown got to his feet, breathing heavily in a mixture of anger and what she realised to her disgust was renewed desire. Clearly, hurting her had aroused him all over again, the sick bastard.

"The reinforcements from the Chancellery Guard just arrived," he hissed. "It seems our chat is over. Such a pity. You're so fragile...such a tiny, breakable little thing. It would have been a great pleasure to demonstrate to my son's little slut-wife how it feels to be taken by a real man. I would have enjoyed listening to you scream. No matter. I'm sure I will enjoy watching your execution even more."

Tejana gave a gurgle of low, rough, defiant laughter. "You'd better. Because killing me will probably be one of the last things you ever do. You think you know your son, but you don't. You only know the tiniest part of what he is destined to become. Back where I come from, he's one of the most ruthless and dangerous men in the entire Universe. You want to talk about the harsh realities of life? Let me fill you in on some of them. I didn't come through that crack alone, Lord Oakdown. He's here on Gallifrey – your son, from the future. You can't see him and you can't hear him, but believe me, he's here. He was the one who injured Anzor. He was the one who would have destroyed you and the rest of the High Council at the Ball, if I hadn't intervened. And if you're fool enough to be responsible for the slaughter of his wife and his unborn child, he _will_ come for you, and he will show you no mercy."

He glared down at her and she saw something move behind the coldness of his eyes. Was it...fear? Had he already sensed the Master at some stage during the past few days, invisibly stalking him down the long corridors of the Citadel, a chill spectre standing too close behind him, watching him as he talked and ate and slept? With all her hearts, Tejana hoped so, taking a savage comfort in the thought, as the pain he had inflicted on her crept steadily through her body. He _deserved_ to be afraid before he died. He deserved every second of the revenge the Master would take on him, even if she wouldn't be alive to see it.

Taking a step backwards, he spread his arms challengingly. "Let him come!" he derided. "If he's here, if he truly cares for you as much as you seem to think, let him come now! Let him try to save you! I'm waiting!"

There was a short, charged silence, in which nothing happened. Lord Oakdown sneered at Tejana in triumph, underscored with what she sensed was hidden relief. He had seen the devastation the ghost-Master had wreaked in the Ballroom and she guessed he hadn't been entirely sure what would come in response to his challenge. However, to her dismay and his elation, nothing stirred whatsoever. Anguish and despair lanced through her. Where was the Master? What had happened to him after he had helped her destroy the Daleks in the Adytum? He had to be here somewhere. She refused to believe that he had destroyed himself, or that he was gone forever. The Master always came back, she told herself desperately,_ always_!

"Oh dear," Lord Oakdown said in mock disappointment, amused at her misery. "It seems he is asleep. Or perhaps he doesn't watch over you as closely as you would like to believe. Or _perhaps_ he's nothing but a fantasy inside your pretty, deluded little head. Either way, it appears my invisible son is not coming. Resign yourself to the inevitable, my dear. You are going to die like the renegade you are and nothing is going to save you."

Turning to the entrance, he rapped out, "Guards!"

At once, the door burst open, and a dozen of the Chancellery Guard flooded into the room.

"Seize her!" Oakdown ordered coldly. "Seize the traitor and escort her to the Panopticon for immediate execution."

Obediently, the original two guards, the ones she had labelled Tweedledum and Tweedledummer, marched forward and grabbed her roughly by the arms, hoisting her to her feet and dragging her towards the door.

* * *

Back on Earth, the Doctor smiled up at the Chaos-Master lounging on King Henry's throne, his face written with contempt. "Oh, I'm clever, you're right about that much. Shame I can't say the same about you. With every minute that goes by, you're proving yourself to be nothing but an inferior copy of the real Master. He might be a psychopathic megalomaniac, but at least he would have had enough brains to realise that if the Universe dies, so does he!"

The Chaos-Master leaned forward on the throne, his brown eyes burning with anger, his voice dripping with malice. "Don't take me for a fool, Doctor. You and I both know that until the energy drain from your daughter is complete, my existence in the physical world can't become permanent. _He_ cheated me of that, when he stole her away through that crack. I'm dying, inch by inch, even as we speak. But at least this way, I get to take the entire Universe with me! Even better, I get to watch you _suffer _while I do it_!_"

The Doctor stretched his arms wide in a challenging gesture. "Well, here I am. This is what you wanted, isn't it? The two of us, face to face. Game over!"

"Oh no, you don't! The game's not over until I say it is!" The Chaos-Master leaned back again, a taunting smirk on his face, evidently enjoying the moment. Idly, he poked the waxwork dummy of Anne Boleyn in the eye, and watched with glee as she tumbled violently off the platform and crashed to the ground. Her head broke off from the impact and rolled across the smooth marble floor to rest at the Doctor's feet. The Chaos-Master's grin widened. "So, did you like my mummies? Good, weren't they? Not quite as much fun as the Daleks, but nearly. Tell me, what did you say to them? _Are you my mummy?_" He broke into wild, cackling, maniacal laughter. "Oh, go on, Doctor, where's your sense of humour? Even you have to admit, that's a good one! _Are you my mummy? _Ha, ha, ha! I stole that line from your daughter's memories – the first time she met her precious Captain Jack, in actual fact! So very touching!" Then he put his hand up to his cheek in mock consternation. "Oh dear, but I forgot, you still can't remember anything about poor little Ana, can you? You've always been a pretty lousy excuse for a Dad, really, even from the beginning. And now it looks you're going to die not even remembering what she looked like!"

The Doctor sighed loudly. "Blah, blah, blah. Get on with it, would you? Only, I'm on a bit of a tight schedule here."

"Don't attempt to provoke me, _Doctor!_" Rage flickered in the Chaos-Master's eyes. "Surely even you must realise how helpless you are. I control the Pandorica. I control this museum. I control _you! _You have no TARDIS, no technology, no weapons. I can kill you as slowly and as painfully as I please, and there's not a thing you can do to stop me!"

"I wouldn't count on it, sunshine!" Rory snarled, stepping forward, his hand flipping down to reveal his laser weapon. "He's not quite as defenceless as you might think!"

The Chaos-Master threw his head back and crowed loudly in delight. "Ah, and there he is, the Doctor's little plastic man. I was wondering how long it would be before you entered the fray. I've been looking forward to this part!"

Reaching beneath his black hoodie, he produced a small device, remarkably similar in appearance to a television remote control.

"What is that?" the Doctor demanded. "What are you doing?"

"Oh, this? Just a little something I cooked up while you were all off playing with those Daleks. I just happened to find a really nice little microwave oven down in the staff room. A little bit of tinkering, a little bit of augmentation, and...hey presto, a frequency modulator!" Extending his arm, the Chaos-Master pointed his invention directly at Rory. "Because, of course, we all know what concentrated radio frequency power does to plastic, don't we?"

With that, he pressed the activating button on the device.

"NO!" the Doctor shouted, whirling around to Rory, already knowing he was going to be too late. "DON'T!"

At first, nothing seemed to happen. But then Rory tried to stride forward, only to find that all his joints had seized up, and he could only move in a series of tiny, spasmodic jerks. His mouth worked silently, his face twisted in agony, unable to utter a sound.

"Doctor? What's happening to him?" Amy screamed, running to her boyfriend's side.

The Chaos-Master giggled insanely. "Keep watching! We haven't got to the good bit yet!"

"Stop this!" the Doctor yelled. "This is between you and me. Leave him alone! Stop it _now!_"

"Not a chance!"

Bubbles were beginning to break out on Rory's skin, each one rising like a loathsome white dome and then exploding with a small pop. Steam rose from his body and the room reeked with the acrid smell of burning plastic.

"Rory!" Amy shrieked. "Oh god, no, RORY!"

Gradually, he turned his head towards her. His features were melting and running like candle wax, sliding horribly away from his face. His fingers had already disintegrated, liquid flesh dripping from his hands to the floor in viscid, hissing blobs. Even as they watched, his body collapsed in on itself, his clothes falling emptily into a puddle of molten plastic.

Amy fell to her knees beside all that was left of her fiancé and howled like a wounded animal, her overwhelming grief echoing around the shadowy room like a death knell. Shocked and sickened, the Doctor turned slowly back towards the Chaos-Master, every movement stiff and wooden, like an old man. He had warned Rory against radio-waves, back when the young centurion had begun his long, two thousand year watch over the Pandorica. But neither of them could ever have anticipated this.

"You see?" the Chaos-Master mocked. "Complete control!" Tossing the frequency modulator carelessly aside, he rose to his feet, every line of his stolen body as lithe as a jungle cat.

"And now we dance, Doctor. _Now_ we dance!"

* * *

_**Another Author's Note: **_

_**Yeah, yeah, okay, so I killed Rory. But hey...everyone else has had a go at it, so I thought I would join the club, LOL. Hope you all enjoyed!**_

_**Ciao until next time XXX**_


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